The Wonderful Adventures of Nils | Page 3

who sat there--astride the edge of the chest!
To be sure, the boy had heard stories about elves, but he had never
dreamed that they were such tiny creatures. He was no taller than a
hand's breadth--this one, who sat on the edge of the chest. He had an
old, wrinkled and beardless face, and was dressed in a black frock coat,
knee-breeches and a broad-brimmed black hat. He was very trim and
smart, with his white laces about the throat and wrist-bands, his
buckled shoes, and the bows on his garters. He had taken from the chest
an embroidered piece, and sat and looked at the old-fashioned
handiwork with such an air of veneration, that he did not observe the
boy had awakened.
The boy was somewhat surprised to see the elf, but, on the other hand,
he was not particularly frightened. It was impossible to be afraid of one
who was so little. And since the elf was so absorbed in his own
thoughts that he neither saw nor heard, the boy thought that it would be
great fun to play a trick on him; to push him over into the chest and
shut the lid on him, or something of that kind.
But the boy was not so courageous that he dared to touch the elf with
his hands, instead he looked around the room for something to poke
him with. He let his gaze wander from the sofa to the leaf-table; from
the leaf-table to the fireplace. He looked at the kettles, then at the
coffee-urn, which stood on a shelf, near the fireplace; on the water
bucket near the door; and on the spoons and knives and forks and
saucers and plates, which could be seen through the half-open cupboard
door. He looked at his father's gun, which hung on the wall, beside the
portrait of the Danish royal family, and on the geraniums and fuchsias,

which blossomed in the window. And last, he caught sight of an old
butterfly-snare that hung on the window frame. He had hardly set eyes
on that butterfly-snare, before he reached over and snatched it and
jumped up and swung it alongside the edge of the chest. He was
himself astonished at the luck he had. He hardly knew how he had
managed it--but he had actually snared the elf. The poor little chap lay,
head downward, in the bottom of the long snare, and could not free
himself.
The first moment the boy hadn't the least idea what he should do with
his prize. He was only particular to swing the snare backward and
forward; to prevent the elf from getting a foothold and clambering up.
The elf began to speak, and begged, oh! so pitifully, for his freedom.
He had brought them good luck--these many years--he said, and
deserved better treatment. Now, if the boy would set him free, he would
give him an old coin, a silver spoon, and a gold penny, as big as the
case on his father's silver watch.
The boy didn't think that this was much of an offer; but it so
happened--that after he had gotten the elf in his power, he was afraid of
him. He felt that he had entered into an agreement with something
weird and uncanny; something which did not belong to his world, and
he was only too glad to get rid of the horrid thing.
For this reason he agreed at once to the bargain, and held the snare still,
so the elf could crawl out of it. But when the elf was almost out of the
snare, the boy happened to think that he ought to have bargained for
large estates, and all sorts of good things. He should at least have made
this stipulation: that the elf must conjure the sermon into his head.
"What a fool I was to let him go!" thought he, and began to shake the
snare violently, so the elf would tumble down again.
But the instant the boy did this, he received such a stinging box on the
ear, that he thought his head would fly in pieces. He was dashed--first
against one wall, then against the other; he sank to the floor, and lay
there--senseless.
When he awoke, he was alone in the cottage. The chest-lid was down,
and the butterfly-snare hung in its usual place by the window. If he had
not felt how the right cheek burned, from that box on the ear, he would
have been tempted to believe the whole thing had been a dream. "At
any rate, father and mother will be sure to insist that it was nothing

else," thought he. "They are not likely to make any allowances for that
old sermon, on account of the elf. It's best for me