Tell Me Another Story | Page 4

old, old house.
All the other houses in the street were new, with large window panes
and smooth walls, but the old house had queer faces cut out of the
beams over the windows, and under the eaves was a dragon's head for a
rain-water spout. The front steps were as broad as those to a palace, and
as high, it seemed, as to a church tower.
"How long is that old place to stand and spoil our street?" said the
families who lived in the new houses.
But at the window opposite the old house there sat a little boy with rosy
cheeks and bright eyes. He certainly liked the old house best, in
sunshine or when the moon shone on it. He knew who lived there, an
old man who wore a coat with large brass buttons and a wig which one
could see was really a wig. Every morning there came an ancient
servant to put his rooms in order and to do his errands. Now and then
the old man came to the window and looked out, and the little boy
nodded to him, and the old man nodded back as if he were pleased. The
little boy heard his father and mother say,
"The old man opposite is rich, but he is so very, very lonely."
The Sunday following the little boy took something, and wrapped it up
in a piece of paper. He went downstairs and stood in the doorway, and
when the errand man came past, he said to him,
"I say, sir, will you give this to the old man over the way for me? I have

two toy soldiers. This is one of them and he shall have it, for I hear that
he is lonely."
The errand man looked pleased, nodded, and took the toy soldier over
to the old house. Afterwards there came a message; it was to ask if the
little boy himself would not come over and pay a visit. So he got
permission of his mother, and went over to the old house.
It seemed as if the brass balls on the iron fence shone brighter than ever
because he had come. There were steps in the garden that went down
and then up again, and the porch, even, was overgrown with green stuff
as if it were part of the garden. The walls of the hall were hung with
musty leather, printed with gold flowers, and there were chairs with
high backs that creaked as if they had the gout.
And at last the little boy came into the room where the old man sat.
"I thank you for the toy soldier, my little friend," said the old man, "and
I thank you because you came over to see me."
The pendulum of the great clock went to and fro, and the hands turned,
and everything in the room became still older, but the little boy went up
to the old man and took his hand.
"They said at home," said the little boy, "that you were very lonely."
Then the old man took a book with pictures in it down from a shelf, and
he went into the other room to the pantry. It was really delightful in the
old house!
But the toy soldier, who sat on a cabinet, suddenly spoke.
"I can't bear it any longer," he said. "The days are so dull and the
evenings are still duller. Here it is not at all like your home, where your
father and mother talk so pleasantly, and you and the other children
make such a delightful noise."
"Oh, you mustn't mind that," said the little boy. "This house is full of

old thoughts that come and visit and bring much company with them."
"I see nothing of them, and I don't know them because I am new," said
the toy soldier. "I cannot bear it!"
"But you must!" said the little boy.
Then in came the old man with the most pleased and happy face, and
bringing such delicious sweets, apples, and nuts. So the little boy
thought no more about the toy soldier.
He went home, happy. Weeks and days passed, and he nodded over to
the old house, and the old man nodded back. Then the little boy went
over again.
The old man went to find a treasure box that he had with secret drawers,
and the toy soldier took this opportunity of speaking once more to the
little boy.
"Do you still sing on Sundays?" he asked. "When the curtains are up I
can see you all over there at home distinctly. Tell me about my brother.
Does he still live? Yes, he is happy then. Oh, I cannot bear it here any
longer."
"You are given away as a