theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

theoldgrave-stone

byhanschristianandersen

inahouse,withalargecourtyard,inaprovincialtown,atthattimeoftheyearinwhichpeoplesaytheeveningsaregrowinglonger,afamilycircleweregatheredtogetherattheiroldhome.alampburnedonthetable,althoughtheweatherwasmildandwarm,andthelongcurtainshungdownbeforetheopenwindows,andwithoutthemoonshonebrightlyinthedark-bluesky.

buttheywerenottalkingofthemoon,butofalarge,oldstonethatlaybelowinthecourtyardnotveryfarfromthekitchenmaidsoftenlaidthecleancoppersaucepansandkitchenvesselsonthisstone,thattheymightdryinthesun,andthechildrenwerefondofplayingonit.itwas,infact,anoldgrave-stone.

"yes,"saidthemasterofthehouse,"ibelievethestonecamefromthegraveyardoftheoldchurchoftheconventwhichwaspulleddown,andthepulpit,themonuments,andthegrave-stonessold.myfatherboughtthelatter;mostofthemwerecutintwoandusedforpaving-stones,butthatonestonewaspreservedwhole,andlaidinthecourtyard."

"anyonecanseethatitisagrave-stone,"saidtheeldestofthechildren;"therepresentationofanhour-glassandpartofthefigureofanangelcanstillbetraced,buttheinscriptionbeneathisquitewornout,exceptingthename'preben,'andalarge's'closebyit,andalittlefartherdownthenameof'martha'canbeeasilyread.butnothingmore,andeventhatcannotbeseenunlessithasbeenraining,orwhenwehavewashedthestone."

"dearme!howsingular.whythatmustbethegrave-stoneofprebenschwaneandhiswife."

theoldmanwhosaidthislookedoldenoughtobethegrandfatherofallpresentintheroom.

"yes,"hecontinued,"thesepeoplewereamongthelastwhowereburiedinthechurchyardoftheoldconvent.theywereaveryworthyoldcouple,icanrememberthemwellinthedaysofmyveryoneknewthem,andtheywereesteemedbyall.theyweretheoldestresidentsinthetown,andpeoplesaidtheypossessedatonofgold,yettheywerealwaysveryplainlydressed,inthecoarseststuff,butwithlinenofthepurestwhiteness.prebenandmarthawereafineoldcouple,andwhentheybothsatonthebench,atthetopofthesteepstonesteps,infrontoftheirhouse,withthebranchesofthelinden-treewavingabovethem,andnoddedinagentle,friendlywaytopassersby,itreallymadeonefeelquiteywereverygoodtothepoor;theyfedthemandclothedthem,andintheirbenevolencetherewasjudgmentaswellastruechristianity.theoldwomandiedfirst;thatdayisstillquitevividlybeforemyeyes.iwasalittleboy,andhadaccompaniedmyfathertotheoldman'shouse.marthahadfallenintothesleepofdeathjustaswearrivedthere.thecorpselayinabedroom,neartotheoneinwhichwesat,andtheoldmanwasingreatdistressandweepinglikeachild.hespoketomyfather,andtoafewneighborswhowerethere,ofhowlonelyheshouldfeelnowshewasgone,andhowgoodandtrueshe,hisdeadwife,hadbeenduringthenumberofyearsthattheyhadpassedthroughlifetogether,andhowtheyhadbecomeacquainted,andlearnttoloveeachother.iwas,asihavesaid,aboy,andonlystoodbyandlistenedtowhattheotherssaid;butitfilledmewithastrangeemotiontolistentotheoldman,andtowatchhowthecolorroseinhischeeksashespokeofthedaysoftheircourtship,ofhowbeautifulshewas,andhowmanylittletrickshehadbeenguiltyof,thathemightmeether.andthenhetalkedofhiswedding-day;andhiseyesbrightened,andheseemedtobecarriedback,byhiswords,tothatjoyfultime.andyetthereshewas,lyinginthenextroom,dead-anoldwoman,andhewasanoldman,speakingofthedaysofhope,longpassedaway.ah,well,soitis;theniwasbutachild,andnowiamold,asoldasprebenschwanethenwas.timepassesaway,andallthingschanged.icanrememberquitewellthedayonwhichshewasburied,andhowoldprebenwalkedclosebehindthecoffin.

"afewyearsbeforethistimetheoldcouplehadhadtheirgrave-stoneprepared,withaninscriptionandtheirnames,butnotthedate.intheeveningthestonewastakentothechurchyard,andlaidonthegrave.ayearlateritwastakenup,thatoldprebenmightbelaidbythesideofhiswife.theydidnotleavebehindthemwealth,theyleftbehindthemfarlessthanpeoplehadbelievedtheypossessed;whattherewaswenttofamiliesdistantlyrelatedtothem,ofwhom,tillthen,noonehadeverheard.theoldhouse,withitsbalconyofwickerwork,andthebenchatthetopofthehighsteps,underthelime-tree,wasconsidered,bytheroad-inspectors,toooldandrottentobeleftstanding.afterwards,whenthesamefatebefelltheconventchurch,andthegraveyardwasdestroyed,thegrave-stoneofprebenandmartha,likeeverythingelse,wassoldtowhoeverwouldbuyit.andsoithappenedthatthisstonewasnotcutintwoasmanyothershadbeen,butnowliesinthecourtyardbelow,ascouringblockforthemaids,andaplaygroundforthechildren.thepavedstreetnowpassesovertherestingplaceofoldprebenandhiswife;noonethinksofthemanymorenow."

andtheoldmanwhohadspokenofallthisshookhisheadmournfully,andsaid,"forgotten!