安徒生童話故事第70篇：她是一個廢物She Was Good for Nothing
引導語：廢物大家知道是如何定義的?下面是安徒生童話故事的《她是一個廢物》，有中英文版本的，我們一起閱讀學習。
市長正站在開著的窗子面前。他只穿著襯衫;襯衫的前襟上彆著一根領帶別針。他的鬍子颳得特別光——是他親自刮的。的確，他劃開了一個小口，但是他已經在上面貼了一小片報紙。
“聽著，小傢伙!”他大聲說。
這小傢伙不是別人，就是那個貧苦的洗衣婦的兒子。他正在這房子前面經過;他恭恭敬敬地把帽子摘下來。帽子已經破了，因為他隨時可以把帽子捲起來塞在衣袋裡。這孩子穿著一件樸素的舊衣服，但是衣服很乾淨，補得特別平整，腳上拖著一雙厚木鞋，站在那兒，卑微得好像是站在皇帝面前一樣。
“你是一個好孩子，”市長先生說。“你是一個有禮貌的孩子。我想你的媽媽正在河邊洗衣服吧?你現在是要把藏在衣袋裡的東西一定是送給她。這對你母親說來是一件很不好的事情!你弄到了多少?”
“半斤，”孩子用一種害怕的聲音吞吞吐吐地說。
“今天早晨她已經喝了這麼多。”市長說。
“沒有，那是昨天!”孩子回答說。
“兩個半斤就整整是一斤!她真是一個廢物!你們這個階級的人說來也真糟糕!告訴你媽媽，她應該覺得羞恥。你自己切記不要變成一個酒徒——不過你會的!可憐的孩子，你去吧!”
孩子走開了。帽子仍然拿在手中。風在吹著他金黃的頭髮，把鬈髮都弄得直立起來了。他繞過一個街角，拐進一條通向河流的小巷裡去。他的母親站在水裡一個洗衣凳旁邊，用木杵打著一大堆沉重的被單。水在滾滾地流，因為磨房的閘門已經抽開了;這些被單被水衝著，差不多要把洗衣凳推翻。這個洗衣婦不得不使盡一切力氣來穩住凳子。
“我差不多也要被捲走了!”她說，“你來得正好，我正需要人來幫幫忙，站在水裡真冷，但是我已經站了六個鐘頭了。你帶來什麼東西給我嗎?”
孩子取出一瓶酒來。媽媽把它湊在嘴上，喝了一點。
“啊，這算是救了我!”她說。“它真叫我感到溫暖!它簡直像一頓熱飯，而且價錢還不貴!你也喝點吧，我的孩子!你看起來簡直一點血色也沒有。你穿著這點單衣，要凍壞的。而且現在又是秋天。噢，水多冷啊!我希望我不要鬧起病來。不，我不會生病的!再給我喝一口吧，你也可以喝一點，不過只能喝一點，可不能喝上癮，我可憐的、親愛的孩子!”
於是她走出河水，爬到孩子站著的那座橋上來。水從她的草編的圍裙上和她的衣服上不停地往下滴。
“我要苦下去，我要拼命的工作，工作得直到手指流出血來。不過，我親愛的孩子，只要我能憑誠實的勞動把你養大，我吃什麼苦也願意。”
當她正在說這話的時候，也一個年紀比她大一點的女人向他們走來了。她的衣服穿得非常寒磣，一隻腳也跛了，還有一卷假髮蓋在一隻眼睛上。這卷假髮的作用本來是要掩住這隻瞎眼的，不過它反而把這個缺點弄得更突出了。她是這個洗衣婦的朋友。鄰居們把她叫做“假髮跛子瑪倫”。
“咳，你這可憐的人!你簡直在冷水裡工作得不要命了!你的確應該喝點什麼東西，把自己暖一下;不過有人一看到你喝幾滴就大喊大叫起來!”不一會兒，市長剛才說的話就全部傳到洗衣婦的耳朵裡去了，因為瑪倫把這些話全都聽到了，而且她很生氣，覺得他居然敢把一個母親所喝的幾滴酒，那樣鄭重其事地告訴她親生的兒子，特別是因為市長正在這天要舉行一個盛大的宴會;在這個宴會上，大家將要一瓶瓶地喝著酒。“而且是強烈的好酒!有許多人將要喝得超過他們的酒量——但是這卻不叫做喝酒!他們是有用的人;但是你就算是廢物!”
“咳，我的孩子，他居然對你說那樣的話!”洗衣婦說，同時她的嘴唇在發抖。“你看，你的媽媽是個廢物!也許他的話有道理，但他不能對我的孩子說呀，況且我在他家裡吃的苦頭已經夠了。”
“當市長的父母還是活著的時候，你就在他家裡當傭人，並且住在他家裡。那是多少年前的事!從那時起，人們不知吃了多少斗的鹽，現在人們也應該感到渴了!”瑪倫笑了一下。“市長今天要舉行一個盛大的午宴。他本來要請那些客人改期再來的，不過已經來不及了，因為菜早就準備好了。這事是門房告訴我的。一個鐘頭以前他接到一封信，說他的弟弟已經在哥本哈根死了。”
“死了?”洗衣婦大叫一聲。她變得象死一樣地慘白。
“是的，死了，”瑪倫說。“你感到特別傷心嗎?是的，你認識他，你在他家裡當過傭人。”
“他死了!他是一個非常好、非常可愛的人!我們的上帝是少有像他那樣的人的。”於是眼淚就沿著她的臉滴下來了。“啊，老天爺!我周圍一切東西在打旋轉!——這是因為我把一瓶酒喝光了的緣故。我實在沒有那麼大的酒量!我覺得我病了!”於是她就靠著木柵欄，免得倒下來。
“天老爺，你真的病了!”瑪倫說。“不要急，你可能會清醒過來的。不對!你真的病了!我最好還是把你送回家去吧。”
“不過我這堆衣服——”
“交給我好了!扶著我吧!你的孩子可以留在這兒等著。我一會兒就回來把它洗完;它並不多。”
這個洗衣婦的腿在發抖。
“我在冷水裡站得太久了!從清早起，我就沒有吃喝過什麼東西。我全身燒得滾燙。啊，耶穌上帝!請幫助我走回家去吧!啊，我可憐的孩子!”於是她就哭起來。
孩子也哭起來。他單獨坐在河邊，守著這一大堆溼衣服。這兩個女人走得很慢。洗衣婦搖搖擺擺地走過一條小巷，拐過一條街就來到市長住著的那條街上。一到他的公館面前，她就倒到人行道上去了。許多人圍攏來。
跛腳瑪倫跑進這公館裡去找人來幫忙。市長和他的客人們走到窗子面前來朝外面望。
“原來是那個洗衣的女人!”他說。“她喝得太多，醉了!她是一個廢物!真可惜，她有一個可愛的.兒子。我的確喜歡這孩子。不過這母親是一個廢物!”
不一會兒洗衣婦恢復了知覺。大家把她扶到她簡陋的屋子裡去，然後把她放在床上。好心腸的瑪倫為她熱了一杯啤酒，裡面加了一些黃油和糖;她認為這是最好的藥品。然後她就匆匆忙忙地跑向河邊去，把衣服洗完了——洗得夠馬虎，雖然她的本意很不壞。嚴格地說，她不過只是把潮溼的衣服拖上岸來，放進桶裡去罷了。
天黑的時候，她來到那間簡陋的小房子裡，坐在洗衣婦的旁邊。她特別為病人向市長的廚子討一點烤洋山芋和一片肥火腿來。瑪倫和孩子大吃了一通，不過病人只能欣賞這食物的香味。她說香味也是很滋補的。
不一會兒，孩子就上床去睡了，睡在他的媽媽睡的那張床上。他橫睡在她的腳頭，蓋著一床縫滿了藍色和白色補丁的舊地毯。
洗衣婦感到現在精神稍微好了一點。溫暖的啤酒使她有了一點力氣;食物的香味也對她起了好的作用。
“多謝你，你這個好心腸的人，”她對瑪倫說。“孩子睡著以後，我就把一切經過都告訴你。我想他已經睡著了。你看，他閉著眼睛躺在那兒，是一副多麼溫柔好看的樣兒!他一點也不知道媽媽的痛苦——我希望老天爺永遠不要讓他知道。我那時是幫那位樞密顧問官——就是市長的父親——做傭人。有一天他的在大學裡唸書的小兒子回來了。我那時是一個粗野的年輕女孩子;但是我可以在老天爺面前發誓，我是正派的!”洗衣婦說。“那大學生是一個快樂、和藹、善良和勇敢的人!他身上的每一滴血都是善良和誠實的。我在這世界上沒有看到過比他更好的人。他是這家的少爺，我不過是一個女傭人;但是我們相愛起來了——我們相愛是真誠的，正當的。他把這件事告訴了他的母親，她在他的眼中就像是世上的一個活神仙。她既聰明，又溫柔。他離開家的時候就把他的戒指套在我的手指上。他已經走了很遠以後，我的女主人就喊我去。她用一種堅定的、但是溫和嚴肅的語氣對我說話——只有我們的上帝才能這樣講話。她把他跟我的區別，無論從精神方面或實質方面，都清楚地告訴了我。
“‘他現在只是看到你是多麼漂亮，’她說，‘不過漂亮是保持不住多久的。你沒有受過他那樣的教育。你在智力方面永遠趕不上他——不幸的關鍵就在這裡。我尊重窮人，’她繼續說：‘在上帝的面前。他們比許多富人的位置還高;不過在我們人的世界裡，我們必須當心不要越過了界限，不然車子就會翻掉，你們兩人也就會翻掉。我知道有一個很好的人向你求過婚——一個手藝人——就是那個手套匠人愛力克。他的妻子已經死了，沒有小孩。他的境遇也很好。你考慮考慮吧!’
“她講的每個字都像一把刺進我心裡的尖刀。不過我知道她的話是有道理的。這使我感到難過，感到沉重。我吻了她的手，流出苦痛的眼淚。當我回到我的房裡倒到床上的時候，我哭得更痛苦。這是我最難過的一夜。只有上帝知道，我是在怎樣受難，怎樣掙扎!
“第二個禮拜天我到教堂裡去，祈求上帝指引我。當我走出教堂的時候，手套匠人愛力克正在向我走來——這好像就是上帝的意志。這時我心裡的一切疑慮都消除了。我們在身分和境遇方面都是相稱的——他還可以算得是境況好的人。因此我就走向他，握著他的手，同時說：
“‘你的心還沒有變吧?’
“‘沒有，永遠不會變!’他回答說。
“‘你願跟一個尊重和敬服你、但是不愛你的女子結婚嗎——雖然她以後可能會對你發生愛情?’
“‘是的，愛情以後就會來的!’他說。這樣，我們就同意了。我回到女主人的家裡來。她的兒子給我的那個戒指一直是藏在我的懷裡。我在白天不敢戴它;只是在晚上我上床去睡的時候才戴上它。現在我吻著戒指，一直吻到我的嘴唇要流出血來。然後我把它交還給我的女主人，同時告訴她，下星期牧師就要宣佈我和手套匠人的結婚的預告。我的女主人雙手抱著我，吻我。她沒有說我是一個廢物;不過那時我可能是比現在更有用一點的，因為我還沒有碰上生活的災難。在聖燭節①那天我們就結婚了。頭一年我們的生活還不壞：我們有一個夥計和一個學徒，還有你，瑪倫——你幫我們的忙。”
“啊，你是一個善良的女主人，”瑪倫說。“我永遠也忘不了，你和你的丈夫對我是多麼好!”
“是的，你和我們住在一起的時候，正是我們過得好的時候!我們那時還沒有孩子。那個大學生我再也沒有見到過——啊，對了，我看到過他，但是他卻沒有看到我!他回來參加他母親的葬禮。我看到他站在墳旁，臉色慘白，樣子很消沉，不過那是因為母親死了的緣故。後來，當他的父親死的時候，他正住在國外，沒有回來。以後他也沒有回來。我知道他一直沒有結婚。後來他成了一個律師。他已經把我忘記了。即使他再看到我，大概也不會認識我的——我已經變得非常難看。這也可算是一件幸事!”
於是她談到她那些苦難的日子和她家所遭遇到的不幸。他們積蓄了五百塊錢，街上有一座房子要賣，估價是兩百塊錢。把它拆了，再建一座新的，還是值得。所以他們就把它買下來了。石匠和木匠把費用計算了一下;新房子的建築費要1020塊錢。手套匠人愛力克很有信用，所以他在京城裡借了這筆錢。不過帶回這筆錢的那個船長，在半路上翻了船;錢和他本人都沒有了。
“這時候，現在正在睡著的我的這個親愛的孩子出世了。長期的重病把我的丈夫拖倒了。有九個月的光景，我得每天替他穿衣和脫衣。我們一天不如一天，而且在不停地借債。我們把所有的東西都賣了，接著丈夫也死了。我工作著，操勞著，為我的孩子操勞和工作，替人擦樓梯，替人洗粗細衣服，但是我的境遇還是沒有辦法改好——這就是上帝的意志!他將要在適當的時候把我喚走的，他也不會不管我的孩子。”
於是她便睡去了。
到了早晨她的精神好了許多，也覺得有了些氣力;她覺得自己可以去繼續工作。不過她一走進冷水裡去的時候，就感到一陣寒顫和無力。她用手在空中亂抓，向前走了一步，便倒下來了。她的頭擱在岸上，但腳仍然浸在水裡。她的一雙木鞋——每隻鞋裡墊著一把草——順著水流走了。這情形是瑪倫送咖啡來時看到的。
這時市長家的一個僕人跑到她簡陋的屋子裡來，叫她趕快到市長家裡去，因為他有事情要對她講。但是現在已經遲了!大家請來了一個剃頭兼施外科手術的人來為她放血。不過這個可憐的洗衣婦已經死了。
“她喝酒喝死了!”市長說。
那封關於他弟弟去世的信裡附有一份遺囑的大要。這裡面有一項是：死者留下六百塊錢給他母親過去的傭人——就是現在的手套匠的寡婦。這筆錢應該根據實際需要，以或多或少的數目付給她或她的孩子。
“我的弟弟和她曾經鬧過一點無聊的事兒，”市長說。“幸虧她死了。現在那個孩子可以得到全部的錢。我將把他送到一個正經人家裡去寄養，好使他將來可以成為一個誠實的手藝人。”
請我們的上帝祝福這幾句話吧。
市長把這孩子喊來，答應照顧他，同時還說他的母親死了是一樁好事，因為她是一個廢物!
人們把她抬到教堂墓地上去，埋在窮人的公墓裡。瑪倫在她的墳上栽了一棵玫瑰樹;那個孩子立在她旁邊。
“我親愛的媽媽!”他哭了起來，眼淚不停地流著。“人們說她是一個廢物，這是真的嗎?”
“不，她是一個非常有用的人!”那個老傭人說，同時生氣地朝天上望著。“我在許多年以前就知道她是一個好人;從昨天晚上起我更知道她是一個好人。我告訴你她是一個有用的人!老天爺知道這是真的。讓別人說‘她是一個廢物’吧!”
①聖燭節(Kyndelmisse)是在二月二日舉行的基督教的節日，紀念耶穌生後40天，聖母瑪利亞帶他到耶路撒冷去祈禱。
她是一個廢物英文版：
She Was Good for Nothing
THE mayor stood at the open window. He looked smart, for his shirt-frill, in which he had stuck a breast-pin, and his ruffles, were very fine. He had shaved his chin uncommonly smooth, although he had cut himself slightly, and had stuck a piece of newspaper over the place. “Hark ’ee, youngster!” cried he.
The boy to whom he spoke was no other than the son of a poor washer-woman, who was just going past the house. He stopped, and respectfully took off his cap. The peak of this cap was broken in the middle, so that he could easily roll it up and put it in his pocket. He stood before the mayor in his poor but clean and well-mended clothes, with heavy wooden shoes on his feet, looking as humble as if it had been the king himself.
“You are a good and civil boy,” said the mayor. “I suppose your mother is busy washing the clothes down by the river, and you are going to carry that thing to her that you have in your pocket. It is very bad for your mother. How much have you got in it?”
“Only half a quartern,” stammered the boy in a frightened voice.
“And she has had just as much this morning already?”
“No, it was yesterday,” replied the boy.
“Two halves make a whole,” said the mayor. “She’s good for nothing. What a sad thing it is with these people. Tell your mother she ought to be ashamed of herself. Don’t you become a drunkard, but I expect you will though. Poor child! there, go now.”
The boy went on his way with his cap in his hand, while the wind fluttered his golden hair till the locks stood up straight. He turned round the corner of the street into the little lane that led to the river, where his mother stood in the water by her washing bench, beating the linen with a heavy wooden bar. The floodgates at the mill had been drawn up, and as the water rolled rapidly on, the sheets were dragged along by the stream, and nearly overturned the bench, so that the washer-woman was obliged to lean against it to keep it steady. “I have been very nearly carried away,” she said; “it is a good thing that you are come, for I want something to strengthen me. It is cold in the water, and I have stood here six hours. Have you brought anything for me?”
The boy drew the bottle from his pocket, and the mother put it to her lips, and drank a little.
“Ah, how much good that does, and how it warms me,” she said; “it is as good as a hot meal, and not so dear. Drink a little, my boy; you look quite pale; you are shivering in your thin clothes, and autumn has really come. Oh, how cold the water is! I hope I shall not be ill. But no, I must not be afraid of that. Give me a little more, and you may have a sip too, but only a sip; you must not get used to it, my poor, dear child.” She stepped up to the bridge on which the boy stood as she spoke, and came on shore. The water dripped from the straw mat which she had bound round her body, and from her gown. “I work hard and suffer pain with my poor hands,” said she, “but I do it willingly, that I may be able to bring you up honestly and truthfully, my dear boy.”
At the same moment, a woman, rather older than herself, came towards them. She was a miserable-looking object, lame of one leg, and with a large false curl hanging down over one of her eyes, which was blind. This curl was intended to conceal the blind eye, but it made the defect only more visible. She was a friend of the laundress, and was called, among the neighbors, “Lame Martha, with the curl.” “Oh, you poor thing; how you do work, standing there in the water!” she exclaimed. “You really do need something to give you a little warmth, and yet spiteful people cry out about the few drops you take.” And then Martha repeated to the laundress, in a very few minutes, all that the mayor had said to her boy, which she had overheard; and she felt very angry that any man could speak, as he had done, of a mother to her own child, about the few drops she had taken; and she was still more angry because, on that very day, the mayor was going to have a dinner-party, at which there would be wine, strong, rich wine, drunk by the bottle. “Many will take more than they ought, but they don’t call that drinking! They are all right, you are good for nothing indeed!” cried Martha indignantly.
“And so he spoke to you in that way, did he, my child?” said the washer-woman, and her lips trembled as she spoke. “He says you have a mother who is good for nothing. Well, perhaps he is right, but he should not have said it to my child. How much has happened to me from that house!”
“Yes,” said Martha; “I remember you were in service there, and lived in the house when the mayor’s parents were alive; how many years ago that is. Bushels of salt have been eaten since then, and people may well be thirsty,” and Martha smiled. “The mayor’s great dinner-party to-day ought to have been put off, but the news came too late. The footman told me the dinner was already cooked, when a letter came to say that the mayor’s younger brother in Copenhagen is dead.”
“Dead!” cried the laundress, turning pale as death.
“Yes, certainly,” replied Martha; “but why do you take it so much to heart? I suppose you knew him years ago, when you were in service there?”
“Is he dead?” she exclaimed. “Oh, he was such a kind, good-hearted man, there are not many like him,” and the tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke. Then she cried, “Oh, dear me; I feel quite ill: everything is going round me, I cannot bear it. Is the bottle empty?” and she leaned against the plank.
“Dear me, you are ill indeed,” said the other woman. “Come, cheer up; perhaps it will pass off. No, indeed, I see you are really ill; the best thing for me to do is to lead you home.”
“But my washing yonder?”
“I will take care of that. Come, give me your arm. The boy can stay here and take care of the linen, and I’ll come back and finish the washing; it is but a trifle.”
The limbs of the laundress shook under her, and she said, “I have stood too long in the cold water, and I have had nothing to eat the whole day since the morning. O kind Heaven, help me to get home; I am in a burning fever. Oh, my poor child,” and she burst into tears. And he, poor boy, wept also, as he sat alone by the river, near to and watching the damp linen.
The two women walked very slowly. The laundress slipped and tottered through the lane, and round the corner, into the street where the mayor lived; and just as she reached the front of his house, she sank down upon the pavement. Many persons came round her, and Lame Martha ran into the house for help. The mayor and his guests came to the window.
“Oh, it is the laundress,” said he; “she has had a little drop too much. She is good for nothing. It is a sad thing for her pretty little son. I like the boy very well; but the mother is good for nothing.”
After a while the laundress recovered herself, and they led her to her poor dwelling, and put her to bed. Kind Martha warmed a mug of beer for her, with butter and sugar—she considered this the best medicine—and then hastened to the river, washed and rinsed, badly enough, to be sure, but she did her best. Then she drew the linen ashore, wet as it was, and laid it in a basket. Before evening, she was sitting in the poor little room with the laundress. The mayor’s cook had given her some roasted potatoes and a beautiful piece of fat for the sick woman. Martha and the boy enjoyed these good things very much; but the sick woman could only say that the smell was very nourishing, she thought. By-and-by the boy was put to bed, in the same bed as the one in which his mother lay; but he slept at her feet, covered with an old quilt made of blue and white patchwork. The laundress felt a little better by this time. The warm beer had strengthened her, and the smell of the good food had been pleasant to her.
“Many thanks, you good soul,” she said to Martha. “Now the boy is asleep, I will tell you all. He is soon asleep. How gentle and sweet he looks as he lies there with his eyes closed! He does not know how his mother has suffered; and Heaven grant he never may know it. I was in service at the counsellor’s, the father of the mayor, and it happened that the youngest of his sons, the student, came home. I was a young wild girl then, but honest; that I can declare in the sight of Heaven. The student was merry and gay, brave and affectionate; every drop of blood in him was good and honorable; a better man never lived on earth. He was the son of the house, and I was only a maid; but he loved me truly and honorably, and he told his mother of it. She was to him as an angel upon earth; she was so wise and loving. He went to travel, and before he started he placed a gold ring on my finger; and as soon as he was out of the house, my mistress sent for me. Gently and earnestly she drew me to her, and spake as if an angel were speaking. She showed me clearly, in spirit and in truth, the difference there was between him and me. ‘He is pleased now,’ she said, ‘with your pretty face; but good looks do not last long. You have not been educated like he has. You are not equals in mind and rank, and therein lies the misfortune. I esteem the poor,’ she added. ‘In the sight of God, they may occupy a higher place than many of the rich; but here upon earth we must beware of entering upon a false track, lest we are overturned in our plans, like a carriage that travels by a dangerous road. I know a worthy man, an artisan, who wishes to marry you. I mean Eric, the glovemaker. He is a widower, without children, and in a good position. Will you think it over?’ Every word she said pierced my heart like a knife; but I knew she was right, and the thought pressed heavily upon me. I kissed her hand, and wept bitter tears, and I wept still more when I went to my room, and threw myself on the bed. I passed through a dreadful night; God knows what I suffered, and how I struggled. The following Sunday I went to the house of God to pray for light to direct my path. It seemed like a providence that as I stepped out of church Eric came towards me; and then there remained not a doubt in my mind. We were suited to each other in rank and circumstances. He was, even then, a man of good means. I went up to him, and took his hand, and said, ‘Do you still feel the same for me?’ ‘Yes; ever and always,’ said he. ‘Will you, then, marry a maiden who honors and esteems you, although she cannot offer you her love? but that may come.’ ‘Yes, it will come,’ said he; and we joined our hands together, and I went home to my mistress. The gold ring which her son had given me I wore next to my heart. I could not place it on my finger during the daytime, but only in the evening, when I went to bed. I kissed the ring till my lips almost bled, and then I gave it to my mistress, and told her that the banns were to be put up for me and the glovemaker the following week. Then my mistress threw her arms round me, and kissed me. She did not say that I was ‘good for nothing;’ very likely I was better then than I am now; but the misfortunes of this world, were unknown to me then. At Michaelmas we were married, and for the first year everything went well with us. We had a journeyman and an apprentice, and you were our servant, Martha.”
“Ah, yes, and you were a dear, good mistress,” said Martha, “I shall never forget how kind you and your husband were to me.”
“Yes, those were happy years when you were with us, although we had no children at first. The student I never met again. Yet I saw him once, although he did not see me. He came to his mother’s funeral. I saw him, looking pale as death, and deeply troubled, standing at her grave; for she was his mother. Sometime after, when his father died, he was in foreign lands, and did not come home. I know that he never married, I believe he became a lawyer. He had forgotten me, and even had we met he would not have known me, for I have lost all my good looks, and perhaps that is all for the best.” And then she spoke of the dark days of trial, when misfortune had fallen upon them.
“We had five hundred dollars,” she said, “and there was a house in the street to be sold for two hundred, so we thought it would be worth our while to pull it down and build a new one in its place; so it was bought. The builder and carpenter made an estimate that the new house would cost ten hundred and twenty dollars to build. Eric had credit, so he borrowed the money in the chief town. But the captain, who was bringing it to him, was shipwrecked, and the money lost. Just about this time, my dear sweet boy, who lies sleeping there, was born, and my husband was attacked with a severe lingering illness. For three quarters of a year I was obliged to dress and undress him. We were backward in our payments, we borrowed more money, and all that we had was lost and sold, and then my husband died. Since then I have worked, toiled, and striven for the sake of the child. I have scrubbed and washed both coarse and fine linen, but I have not been able to make myself better off; and it was God’s will. In His own time He will take me to Himself, but I know He will never forsake my boy.” Then she fell asleep. In the morning she felt much refreshed, and strong enough, as she thought, to go on with her work. But as soon as she stepped into the cold water, a sudden faintness seized her; she clutched at the air convulsively with her hand, took one step forward, and fell. Her head rested on dry land, but her feet were in the water; her wooden shoes, which were only tied on by a wisp of straw, were carried away by the stream, and thus she was found by Martha when she came to bring her some coffee.
In the meantime a messenger had been sent to her house by the mayor, to say that she must come to him immediately, as he had something to tell her. It was too late; a surgeon had been sent for to open a vein in her arm, but the poor woman was dead.
“She has drunk herself to death,” said the cruel mayor. In the letter, containing the news of his brother’s death, it was stated that he had left in his will a legacy of six hundred dollars to the glovemaker’s widow, who had been his mother’s maid, to be paid with discretion, in large or small sums to the widow or her child.
“There was something between my brother and her, I remember,” said the mayor; “it is a good thing that she is out of the way, for now the boy will have the whole. I will place him with honest people to bring him up, that he may become a respectable working man.” And the blessing of God rested upon these words. The mayor sent for the boy to come to him, and promised to take care of him, but most cruelly added that it was a good thing that his mother was dead, for “she was good for nothing.” They carried her to the churchyard, the churchyard in which the poor were buried. Martha strewed sand on the grave and planted a rose-tree upon it, and the boy stood by her side.
“Oh, my poor mother!” he cried, while the tears rolled down his cheeks. “Is it true what they say, that she was good for nothing?”
“No, indeed, it is not true,” replied the old servant, raising her eyes to heaven; “she was worth a great deal; I knew it years ago, and since the last night of her life I am more certain of it than ever. I say she was a good and worthy woman, and God, who is in heaven, knows I am speaking the truth, though the world may say, even now she was good for nothing.”