"From the shop opposite," he replied. "Many portraits hang therethat none seem to trouble themselves about. The persons they representhave been dead and buried long since. But I knew this lady manyyears ago, and she has been dead nearly half a century."
  Under a glass beneath the picture hung a nosegay of witheredflowers, which were no doubt half a century old too, at least theyappeared so.
  And the pendulum of the old clock went to and fro, and the handsturned round; and as time passed on, everything in the room grewolder, but no one seemed to notice it.
  "They say at home," said the little boy, "that you are verylonely."
  "Oh," replied the old man, "I have pleasant thoughts of all thathas passed, recalled by memory; and now you are come to visit me,and that is very pleasant."
  Then he took from the book-case, a book full of picturesrepresenting long processions of wonderful coaches, such as arenever seen at the present time. Soldiers like the knave of clubs,and citizens with waving banners. The tailors had a flag with a pairof scissors supported by two lions, and on the shoemakers' flagthere were not boots, but an eagle with two heads, for theshoemakers must have everything arranged so that they can say, "Thisis a pair." What a picture-book it was; and then the old man went intoanother room to fetch apples and nuts. It was very pleasant,certainly, to be in that old house.
  "I cannot endure it," said the tin soldier, who stood on ashelf, "it is so lonely and dull here. I have been accustomed tolive in a family, and I cannot get used to this life. I cannot bearit. The whole day is long enough, but the evening is longer. It is nothere like it was in your house opposite, when your father and mothertalked so cheerfully together, while you and all the dear childrenmade such a delightful noise. No, it is all lonely in the old man'shouse. Do you think he gets any kisses? Do you think he ever hasfriendly looks, or a Christmas tree? He will have nothing now butthe grave. Oh, I cannot bear it."
  "You must not look only on the sorrowful side," said the littleboy; "I think everything in this house is beautiful, and all the oldpleasant thoughts come back here to pay visits."
  "Ah, but I never see any, and I don't know them," said the tinsoldier, "and I cannot bear it."
  "You must bear it," said the little boy. Then the old man cameback with a pleasant face; and brought with him beautiful preservedfruits, as well as apples and nuts; and the little boy thought no moreof the tin soldier. How happy and delighted the little boy was; andafter he returned home, and while days and weeks passed, a greatdeal of nodding took place from one house to the other, and then thelittle boy went to pay another visit. The carved trumpeters blew"Tanta-ra-ra. There is the little boy. Tanta-ra-ra." The swords andarmor on the old knight's pictures rattled. The silk dressesrustled, the leather repeated its rhyme, and the old chairs had thegout in their backs, and cried, "Creak;" it was all exactly like thefirst time; for in that house, one day and one hour were just likeanother. "I cannot bear it any longer," said the tin soldier; "Ihave wept tears of tin, it is so melancholy here. Let me go to thewars, and lose an arm or a leg, that would be some change; I cannotbear it. Now I know what it is to have visits from one's oldrecollections, and all they bring with them. I have had visits frommine, and you may believe me it is not altogether pleasant. I was verynearly jumping from the shelf. I saw you all in your house opposite,as if you were really present. It was Sunday morning, and you childrenstood round the table, singing the hymn that you sing every morning.You were standing quietly, with your hands folded, and your father andmother. You were standing quietly, with your hands folded, and yourfather and mother were looking just as serious, when the dooropened, and your little sister Maria, who is not two years old, wasbrought into the room. You know she always dances when she hears musicand singing of any sort; so she began to dance immediately, althoughshe ought not to have done so, but she could not get into the righttime because the tune was so slow; so she stood first on one leg andthen on the other, and bent her head very low, but it would not suitthe music. You all stood looking very grave, although it was verydifficult to do so, but I laughed so to myself that I fell down fromthe table, and got a bruise, which is there still; I know it was notright to laugh. So all this, and everything else that I have seen,keeps running in my head, and these must be the old recollections thatbring so many thoughts with them. Tell me whether you still sing onSundays, and tell me about your little sister Maria, and how my oldcomrade is, the other tin soldier. Ah, really he must be very happy; Icannot endure this life."
  "You are given away," said the little boy; "you must stay. Don'tyou see that?"