DANSK

Flipperne

ENGLISH

The shirt-collar


Der var engang en fin kaveler, hvis hele bohave var en støvleknægt og en redekam, men han havde de dejligste flipper i verden og det er om flipperne vi skal høre en historie. De var nu så gamle at de tænkte på at gifte sig, og så traf det at de kom i vask med et strømpebånd.
There was once a fine gentleman who possessed among other things a boot-jack and a hair-brush; but he had also the finest shirt-collar in the world, and of this collar we are about to hear a story. The collar had become so old that he began to think about getting married; and one day he happened to find himself in the same washing-tub as a garter.


"Nej!" sagde flipperne, "nu har jeg aldrig set nogen så slank og så fin, så blød og så nysselig. Må jeg ikke spørge om Deres navn?"
"Upon my word," said the shirt-collar, "I have never seen anything so slim and delicate, so neat and soft before. May I venture to ask your name?"


"Det siger jeg ikke!" sagde strømpebåndet.
"I shall not tell you," replied the garter.


"Hvor hører De hjemme?" spurgte flipperne.
"Where do you reside when you are at home?" asked the shirt-collar.


Men strømpebåndet var så undselig af sig og syntes at det var noget underligt at svare på.
But the garter was naturally shy, and did not know how to answer such a question.


"De er nok livbånd!" sagde flipperne, "sådan indvortes livbånd! jeg ser nok de er både til nytte og stads, lille jomfru!"
"I presume you are a girdle," said the shirt-collar, "a sort of under girdle. I see that you are useful, as well as ornamental, my little lady."


"De må ikke tale til mig!" sagde strømpebåndet, "jeg synes jeg har slet ikke givet anledning!"
"You must not speak to me," said the garter; "I do not think I have given you any encouragement to do so."


"Jo, når man er så dejlig som De!" sagde flipperne, "det er anledning nok!"
"Oh, when any one is as beautiful as you are," said the shirt-collar, "is not that encouragement enough?"


"Lad være at komme mig så nær!" sagde strømpebåndet. "De ser så mandfolkeagtig ud!"
"Get away; don't come so near me," said the garter, "you appear to me quite like a man."


"Jeg er også fin kaveler!" sagde flipperne, "jeg har støvleknægt og redekam!" og det var nu ikke sandt det var jo hans herre, der havde dem, men han pralede.
"I am a fine gentleman certainly," said the shirt-collar, "I possess a boot-jack and a hair-brush." This was not true, for these things belonged to his master; but he was a boaster.


"Kom mig ikke nær!" sagde strømpebåndet, "det er jeg ikke vant til!"
"Don't come so near me," said the garter; "I am not accustomed to it."


"Snerpe!" sagde flipperne og så blev de taget af vasken; de fik stivelse, hang på stolen i solskin og blev så lagt på strygebræt; der kom det varme jern.
"Affectation!" said the shirt-collar. Then they were taken out of the wash-tub, starched, and hung over a chair in the sunshine, and then laid on the ironing-board. And now came the glowing iron.


"Frue!" sagde flipperne, "lille enkefrue! Jeg bliver ganske varm! jeg bliver en anden én, jeg kommer rent ud af folderne, De brænder hul i mig! uh! Jeg frir til Dem!"
"Mistress widow," said the shirt-collar, "little mistress widow, I feel quite warm. I am changing, I am losing all my creases. You are burning a hole in me. Ugh! I propose to you."


"Las!" sagde strygejernet og gik stolt hen over flipperne; for det bildte sig ind det var en dampkedel, der skulle ud på jernbanen og trække vogne.
"You old rag," said the flat-iron, driving proudly over the collar, for she fancied herself a steam-engine, which rolls over the railway and draws carriages.


"Las!" sagde det.
"You old rag!" said she.


Flipperne flossede lidt i kanterne, og så kom papirsaksen og skulle klippe flosset af.
The edges of the shirt-collar were a little frayed, so the scissors were brought to cut them smooth.


"Oh!" sagde flipperne! "De er nok førstedanserinde! hvor De kan strække ben! Det er det yndigste jeg har set! det kan intet menneske gøre Dem efter!"
"Oh!" exclaimed the shirt-collar, "what a first-rate dancer you would make; you can stretch out your leg so well. I never saw anything so charming; I am sure no human being could do the same."


"Det ved jeg!" sagde saksen.
"I should think not," replied the scissors.


"De fortjente at være grevinde!" sagde flipperne, "Alt hvad jeg har, er en fin kaveler, en støvleknægt og en redekam! Bare jeg havde grevskab!"
"You ought to be a countess," said the shirt collar; "but all I possess consists of a fine gentleman, a boot-jack, and a comb. I wish I had an estate for your sake."


"Frir han!" sagde saksen, for den blev vred og så gav den ham et ordentligt klip, og så var han kasseret.
"What! Is he going to propose to me?" said the scissors, and she became so angry that she cut too sharply into the shirt collar, and it was obliged to be thrown by as useless.


"Jeg må nok fri til redekammen! Det er mærkeligt hvor De beholder alle Deres tænder lille frøken!" sagde flipperne. "Har De aldrig tænkt på forlovelse!"
"I shall be obliged to propose to the hair-brush," thought the shirt collar; so he remarked one day, "It is wonderful what beautiful hair you have, my little lady. Have you never thought of being engaged?"


"Jo det kan De vel nok vide!" sagde redekammen, "jeg er jo forlovet med støvleknægten!"
"You might know I should think of it," answered the hair brush; "I am engaged to the boot-jack."


"Forlovet!" sagde flipperne; nu var der ingen flere at fri til og så foragtede han det.
"Engaged!" cried the shirt collar, "now there is no one left to propose to;" and then he pretended to despise all love-making.


En lang tid gik, så kom flipperne i kasse hos papirmølleren; der var stort kludeselskab, de fine for sig, de grove for sig, således som det skal være. De havde alle meget at fortælle, men flipperne mest, det var en ordentlig pralhans.
A long time passed, and the shirt collar was taken in a bag to the paper-mill. Here was a large company of rags, the fine ones lying by themselves, separated from the coarser, as it ought to be. They had all many things to relate, especially the shirt collar, who was a terrible boaster.


"Jeg har haft så frygtelig mange kærester!" sagde flipperne, "jeg kunne ikke gå i ro! Jeg var nu også fin kaveler, med stivelse! Jeg havde både støvleknægt og redekam, som jeg aldrig brugte! De skulle have set mig den gang, set mig når jeg lå på siden! Aldrig glemmer jeg min første kæreste, hun var livbånd, så fin, så blød og så nydelig, hun styrtede sig i en vandbalje for min skyld! Der var også en enkefrue, som blev gloende, men jeg lod hende stå og blive sort! Der var den førstedanserinde, hun gav mig den flænge jeg nu går med, hun var så glubsk! min egen redekam var forlibt i mig, hun tabte alle sine tænder af kærestesorg. Ja jeg har oplevet meget af den slags! men det gør mig mest ondt for strømpebåndet, jeg mener livbåndet der gik i vandbaljen. Jeg har meget på min samvittighed, jeg kan trænge til at blive til hvidt papir!"
"I have had an immense number of love affairs," said the shirt collar, "no one left me any peace. It is true I was a very fine gentleman; quite stuck up. I had a boot-jack and a brush that I never used. You should have seen me then, when I was turned down. I shall never forget my first love; she was a girdle, so charming, and fine, and soft, and she threw herself into a washing tub for my sake. There was a widow too, who was warmly in love with me, but I left her alone, and she became quite black. The next was a first-rate dancer; she gave me the wound from which I still suffer, she was so passionate. Even my own hair-brush was in love with me, and lost all her hair through neglected love. Yes, I have had great experience of this kind, but my greatest grief was for the garter, the girdle I meant to say, that jumped into the wash-tub. I have a great deal on my conscience, and it is really time I should be turned into white paper."


Og det blev de, alle kludene blev hvidt papir, men flipperne blev netop til dette stykke hvide papir vi her ser, hvorpå historien er trykt, og det var fordi at den pralede så frygteligt bagefter af hvad der aldrig havde været; og det skal vi tænke på, at vi ikke bærer os ligesådan ad, for vi kan såmænd aldrig vide, om vi ikke også engang kommer i kludekassen og bliver gjort til hvidt papir og får vor hele historie trykt for på, selv den allerhemmeligste og må så selv løbe om og fortælle den, ligesom flipperne.
And the shirt collar came to this at last. All the rags were made into white paper, and the shirt collar became the very identical piece of paper which we now see, and on which this story is printed. It happened as a punishment to him, for having boasted so shockingly of things which were not true. And this is a warning to us, to be careful how we act, for we may some day find ourselves in the rag-bag, to be turned into white paper, on which our whole history may be written, even its most secret actions. And it would not be pleasant to have to run about the world in the form of a piece of paper, telling everything we have done, like the boasting shirt collar.





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