小学英语 英语故事(童话故事)The Girl Who Trod on the Loaf 踩着面包走的女孩
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The
Girl
Who
Trod
on
the
Loaf
踩着面包走的女孩
You have quite likely heard of the girl
who trod on a loaf so as not to soil her
pretty
shoes,
and
what
misfortunes
this
brought
upon
her.
The
story
has
been
written
and printed, too.
She
was
a
poor
child,
but
proud
and
arrogant,
and
people
said
she
had
a
bad
disposition.
When
but
a
very
little
child,
she
found
pleasure
in
catching
flies,
to
pull
off
their
wings
and
make
creeping
insects
of
them.
And
she
used
to
stick
May
bugs
and
beetles
on a pin, then put a green leaf or
piece of paper close to their feet, so that the
poor animals clung to it, and turned
and twisted as they tried to get off the pin.
May
bug
is
reading
now,
little
Inger
would
say.
how
it
turns
the
leaves!
As
she
grew
older
she
became
even
worse
instead
of
better;
but
she
was
very
pretty,
and that was probably her misfortune.
Because otherwise she would have been
disciplined more than she was.
child you often used to
trample on my aprons; and when you're older I fear
you'll
trample on my
heart.
And she really did.
Then she was sent into the country to
be in the service of people of distinction.
They treated her as kindly as if she
had been their own child and dressed her so
well that she looked extremely
beautiful and became even more arrogant.
When
she
had
been
in
their
service
for
about
a
year,
her
mistress
said
to
her,
ought to go
back and visit your parents, little
Inger.
So she went, but only because she
wanted to show them how fine she had become. But
when she reached the village, and saw
the young men and girls gossiping around the
pond,
and
her
mother
sat
resting
herself
on
a
stone
near
by,
with
a
bundle
of
firewood
she
had
gathered
in
the
forest,
Inger
turned
away;
she
was
ashamed
that
one
dressed
as
smartly as she should have for a mother such a
poor, ragged woman who gathered
sticks
for burning. It was without reluctance that she
turned away; she was only
annoyed.
Another half year went by.
must
go
home
someday
and
visit
your
old
parents,
little
Inger,
said
her
mistress.
a
large
loaf
of
white
bread
to
take
them.
They'll
be
happy
to
see
you
again.
So Inger
put
on her best dress and
her fine new
shoes and lifted
her
skirt high and
walked very carefully, so that her
shoes would stay clean and neat, and for that
no
one
could
blame
her.
But
when
she
came
to
where
the
path
crossed
over
marshy
ground,
and there was a stretch of water and
mud before her, she threw the bread into the
mud,
so
that
she
could
use
it
as
a
steppingstone
and
get
across
with
dry
shoes.
But
just as she placed one foot on the
bread and lifted the other up, the loaf sank in
deeper and deeper, carrying her down
until she disappeared entirely, and nothing
could be seen but a black, bubbling
pool! That's the story.
But
what
became
of
her?
She
went
down
to
the
Marsh
Woman,
who
brews
down
there.
The
Marsh
Woman
is
an
aunt
of
the
elf
maidens,
who
are
very
well
known.
There
have
been
poems written about them and pictures
painted
of them, but nobody
knows
much about
the Marsh Woman, except that when the
meadows begin to reek in the summer the old
woman
is
at
her
brewing
down
below.
Little
Inger
sank
into
this
brewery,
and
no
one
could
stand it very long there. A cesspool is a
wonderful palace compared with the
Marsh
Woman's
brewery.
Every
vessel
is
reeking
with
horrible
smells
that
would
turn
a human being faint,
and they are packed closely together; but even if
there were
enough space between them to
creep through, it would be impossible because of
the
slimy toads and the fat snakes that
are creeping and slithering along. Into this
place little Inger sank, and all the
horrible, creeping mess was so icy cold that
she
shivered
in
every
limb.
She
became
more
and
more
stiff,
and
the
bread
stuck
fast
to her, drawing her as
an amber bead draws a slender thread.
The
Marsh
Woman
was
at
home,
for
the
brewery
was
being
visited
that
day
by
the
devil
and his
great-grandmother, the latter a very poisonous old
creature who was never
idle.
She
never
goes
out
without
taking
some
needlework
with
her,
and
she
had
brought
some
this time. She was sewing bits of leather to put
in people's shoes, so that
they should
have no rest. She embroidered lies, and worked up
into mischief and
slander
thoughtless
words
that
would
otherwise
have
fallen
harmlessly
to
the
ground.
Yes, she could sew, embroider, and
weave, that old great-grandmother!
She
saw Inger, then put on her spectacles and looked
again at her.
talent,
a
suitable statue in my great-grandchildren's
antechamber.
her!
Thus little
Inger went to hell! People don't always go
directly down there; they
can go by a
roundabout way, when they have the necessary
talent.
It was an endless antechamber.
It made one dizzy to look forward and dizzy to
look
backward, and there was
a crowd
of anxious,
exhausted people waiting
for the gates
of mercy to be opened for them. They
would have long to wait. Huge, hideous, fat
spiders spun cobwebs, of thousands of
years' lasting, over their feet, webs like
foot screws or manacles, which held
them like copper chains; besides this, every
soul was filled with everlasting
unrest, an unrest of torment and pain. The miser
stood
there,
lamenting
that
he
had
forgotten
the
key
to
his
money
box.
Yes,
it
would
take too
long to repeat all the tortures and troubles of
that place.
Inger
was
tortured
by
standing
like
a
statue;
it
was
as
if
she
were
fastened
to
the
ground by the loaf of
bread.
them stare at
me!
Yes, they all stared at her, with
evil passions glaring from their eyes, and spoke
without a sound coming from their
mouths. They were frightful to look at!
and nice
clothes.
My, how soiled she had become
in the Marsh Woman's brewery! Her dress was
covered
with clots of nasty slime; a
snake had wound itself in her hair and dangled
over
her neck; and from every fold of
her dress an ugly toad peeped out, barking like
an asthmatic lap dog. It was most
disagreeable.
horrible,
too,
Worst of all was the dreadful
hunger she felt. Could she stoop down and break
off
a bit of the bread on which she was
standing? No, her back had stiffened, her arms
and hands had stiffened, her whole body
was like a statue of stone. She could only
roll her eyes, but these she could turn
entirely around, so she could see behind
her, and that was a horrid sight. Then
the flies came and crept to and fro across
her eyeballs. She blinked her eyes, but
the flies did not fly away, for they could
not; their wings had been pulled off,
and they had become creeping insects. That
was another torment added to the
hunger, and at last it seemed to her as if part
of her insides were eating itself up;
she was so empty, so terribly empty.
But she had to stand it; her
sufferings only increased.
Then a hot
tear fell upon her forehead. It trickled over her
face and neck, down
to
the
bread
at
her
feet.
Then
another
tear
fell,
and
many
more
followed.
Who
could
be
weeping
for
little
Inger?
Had
she
not
a
mother
up
there
on
earth?
A
mother's
tears
of
grief for her erring child always reach it, but
they do not redeem; they only
burn, and
they make the pain greater. And this terrible
hunger, and being unable
to
snatch
a
mouthful
of
the
bread
she
trod
underfoot!
She
finally
had
a
feeling
that
everything
inside
her
must
have
eaten
itself
up.
She
became
like
a
thin,
hollow
reed,
taking in every sound.
She could hear distinctly everything
that was said about her on the earth above,
and
what
she
heard
was
harsh
and
evil.
Though
her
mother
wept
sorrowfully,
she
still
said,
your
mother!
had trod upon the bread and had
sunk and stayed down; the cowherd who had seen it
all from the brow of the hill told
them.
you
have
grieved
your
mother,
Inger!
said
the
mother.
I
expected
this!
My mother's
tears cannot help me now.
She
heard
how
her
employers,
the
good
people
who
had
been
like
parents
to
her,
spoke.
trampled
them underfoot. It will be hard for her to have
the gates of mercy opened
to let her
in.
to have brought me up
better,
the nonsense out of me, if I had
any.
She heard that a song had been
written about her,
a loaf to keep her
shoes clean,
the other.
she
thought.
others
certainly
should
be
punished
for
their
sins,
too!
But
then,
of
course, there would be many to punish. Oh, how I
am suffering!
Then her mind became even
harder than her shell-like form.
at them glare at
me!
Her heart became harder, and full of
hatred for all mankind.