The Doll Story MEGAPACK ®. Frances Hodgson Burnett
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notwithstanding his deformity.
That is the story of the hard nut, children, and now you know why people so often use the expression that was a hard nut, and why Nutcrackers are so ugly.
Thus did Godpapa Drosselmeier finish his tale. Marie thought the Princess Pirlipat was a nasty ungrateful thing. Fritz, on the other hand, was of opinion that if Nutcracker had been a proper sort of fellow he would soon have settled the mouse king’s hash, and got his good looks back again.
UNCLE AND NEPHEW
Should any of my respected readers or listeners ever have happened to be cut by glass they will know what an exceedingly nasty thing it is, and how long it takes to get well. Marie was obliged to stay in bed a whole week, because she felt so terribly giddy whenever she tried to stand up; but at last she was quite well again, and able to jump about as of old. Things in the glass cupboard looked very fine indeed—everything new and shiny, trees and flowers and houses—toys of every kind. Above all, Marie found her dear Nutcracker again, smiling at her in the second shelf, with his teeth all sound and right. As she looked at this pet of hers with much fondness, it suddenly struck her that all Godpapa Drosselmeier’s story had been about Nutcracker, and his family feud with Dame Mouseyrinks and her people. And now she knew that her Nutcracker was none other than young Mr. Drosselmeier, of Nürnberg, Godpapa Drosselmeier’s delightful nephew, unfortunately under the spells of Dame Mouseyrinks. For whilst the story was being told, Marie couldn’t doubt for a moment that the clever clockmaker at Pirlipat’s father’s court was Godpapa Drosselmeier himself.
‘But why didn’t your uncle help you? Why didn’t he help you?’ Marie cried, sorrowfully, as she felt more and more clearly every moment that in the battle, which she had witnessed, the question in dispute had been no less a matter than Nutcracker’s crown and kingdom. ‘Weren’t all the other toys his subjects? And wasn’t it clear that the astronomer’s prophecy that he was to be rightful King of Toyland had come true?’
Whilst the clever Marie was weighing all these things in her mind, she kept expecting that Nutcracker and his vassals would give some indications of being alive, and make some movements as she looked at them. This, however, was by no means the case. Everything in the cupboard kept quite motionless and still. Marie thought this was the effect of Dame Mouseyrinks’s enchantments, and those of her seven-headed son, which still were keeping up their power.
‘But,’ she said, ‘though you’re not able to move, or to say the least little word to me, dear Mr. Drosselmeier, I know you understand me, and see how very well I wish you. Always reckon on my assistance when you require it. At all events, I will ask your uncle to aid you with all his great skill and talents, whenever there may be an opportunity.’
Nutcracker still kept quiet and motionless. But Marie fancied that a gentle sigh came breathing through the glass cupboard, which made its panes ring in a wonderful, though all but imperceptible, manner—whilst something like a little bell-toned voice seemed to sing:
‘Marie fine, angel mine! I will be thine, if thou wilt be mine!’
Although a sort of cold shiver ran through her at this, still it caused her the keenest pleasure.
Twilight came on. Marie’s father came in with Godpapa Drosselmeier, and presently Louise set out the tea-table, and the family took their places round it, talking in the pleasantest and merriest manner about all sorts of things. Marie had taken her little stool, and sat down at her Godpapa’s feet in silence. When everybody happened to cease talking at the same time, Marie looked her Godpapa full in the face with her great blue eyes, and said:
‘I know now, Godpapa, that my Nutcracker is your nephew, young Mr. Drosselmeier from Nürnberg. The prophecy has come true: he is a king and a prince, just as your friend the astronomer said he would be. But you know as well as I do that he is at war with Dame Mouseyrinks’s son—that horrid king of the mice. Why don’t you help him?’
Marie told the whole story of the battle, as she had witnessed it, and was frequently interrupted by the loud laughter of her mother and sister; but Fritz and Drosselmeier listened quite gravely.
‘Where in the name of goodness has the child got her head filled with all that nonsense?’ cried her father.
‘She has such a lively imagination, you see,’ said her mother; ‘she dreamt it all when she was feverish with her arm.’
‘It is all nonsense,’ cried Fritz, ‘and it isn’t true! My red hussars are not such cowards as all that. If they were, do you suppose I should command them?’
But Godpapa smiled strangely, and took little Marie on his knee, speaking more gently to her than ever he had been known to do before.
‘More is given to you, Marie dear,’ he said, ‘than to me, or the others. You are a born princess, like Pirlipat, and reign in a bright beautiful country. But you still have much to suffer, if you mean to befriend poor transformed Nutcracker; for the king of the mice lies in wait for him at every turn. But I cannot help him; you, and you only, can do that. So be faithful and true.’
Neither Marie nor any of the others knew what Godpapa Drosselmeier meant by these words. But they struck Dr. Stahlbaum—the father—as being so strange that he felt Drosselmeier’s pulse, and said:
‘There seems a good deal of congestion about the head, my dear sir. I’ll just write you a little prescription.’
But Marie’s mother shook her head meditatively, and said:
‘I have a strong idea what Mr. Drosselmeier means, though I can’t exactly put it in words.’
VICTORY
It was not very long before Marie was awakened one bright moonlight night by a curious noise, which came from one of the corners of her room. There was a sound as of small stones being thrown, and rolled here and there; and between whiles came a horrid cheeping and squeaking.
‘Oh, dear me! Here come these abominable mice again!’ cried Marie, in terror, and she would have awakened her mother. But the noise suddenly ceased; and she could not move a muscle—for she saw the king of the mice working himself out through a hole in the wall; and at last he came into the room, ran about in it, and got on to the little table at her bed-head with a great jump.
‘Hee-hehee!’ he cried; ‘give me your sweetmeats! Out with your cakes, marchpane and sugar-stick, gingerbread cakes! Don’t pause to argue! If yield them you won’t, I’ll chew up Nutcracker! See if I don’t!’
As he cried out these terrible words he gnashed and chattered his teeth most frightfully, and then made off again through the hole in the wall. This frightened Marie so that she was quite pale in the morning, and so upset that she scarcely could utter a word. A hundred times she felt impelled to tell her mother or her sister, or at all events her brother, what had happened. But she thought, ‘Of course none of them would believe me. They would only laugh at me.’
But she saw well enough that to succor Nutcracker she would have to sacrifice all her sweet things; so she laid out all she had of them at the bottom of the cupboard next evening.
‘I can’t make out how the mice have got into the sitting-room,’ said her mother. ‘This is something quite new. There never were any there before. See, Marie, they’ve eaten up all your sweetmeats.’
And so it was: the epicure mouse king hadn’t found the marchpane altogether to his taste, but had gnawed all round the edges of it, so that what he had left of it had to be thrown into the ash-pit. Marie never minded about her sweetmeats, being delighted to think that she had saved Nutcracker by means of them. But what were her feelings when next night there came a queaking again close by her ear. Alas! The king of the mice was there again, with his eyes glaring worse than the night before.
‘Give me your sugar toys,’ he cried; ‘give them you must, or else I’ll chew Nutcracker up into dust!’
Then he was gone again.
Marie was very sorry. She had as beautiful a collection of sugar-toys as ever a little girl could boast of. Not only had she a charming