The whole night previous to the day on which the procession was to take place， the swindlers pretended to work， and burned more than sixteen candles. People should see that they were busy to finish the emperor’s new suit. They pretended to take the cloth from the loom， and worked about in the air with big scissors， and sewed with needles without thread， and said at last： “The emperor’s new suit is ready now.”
The emperor and all his barons then came to the hall； the swindlers held their arms up as if they held something in their hands and said： “These are the trousers！” “This is the coat！” and “Here is the cloak！” and so on. “They are all as light as a cobweb， and one must feel as if one had nothing at all upon the body； but that is just the beauty of them.”
“Indeed！” said all the courtiers； but they could not see anything， for there was nothing to be seen.
“Does it please your Majesty now to graciously undress，” said the swindlers， “that we may assist your Majesty in putting on the new suit before the large looking-glass？”
The emperor undressed， and the swindlers pretended to put the new suit upon him， one piece after another； and the emperor looked at himself in the glass from every side.
“How well they look！ How well they fit！” said all. “What a beautiful pattern！ What fine colours！ That is a magnificent suit of clothes！”
The master of the ceremonies announced that the bearers of the canopy， which was to be carried in the procession， were ready.
“I am ready，” said the emperor. “Does not my suit fit me marvellously？” Then he turned once more to the looking-glass， that people should think he admired his garments.
The chamberlains， who were to carry the train， stretched their hands to the ground as if they lifted up a train， and pretended to hold something in their hands； they did not like people to know that they could not see anything.
The emperor marched in the procession under the beautiful canopy， and all who saw him in the street and out of the windows exclaimed： “Indeed， the emperor’s new suit is incomparable！ What a long train he has！ How well it fits him！” Nobody wished to let others know he saw nothing， for then he would have been unfit for his office or too stupid. Never emperor’s clothes were more admired.
“But he has nothing on at all，” said a little child at last. “Good！ heavens！ listen to the voice of an innocent child，” said the father， and one whispered to the other what the child had said. “But he has nothing on at all，” cried at last the whole people. That made a deep impression upon the emperor， for it seemed to him that they were right； but he thought to himself， “Now I must bear up to the end.” And the chamberlains walked with still greater dignity， as if they carried the train which did not exist.
4
The Ugly Duckling
丑小鸭
It was lovely summer weather in the country， and the golden corn， the green oats， and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered in the Egyptian language， which he had learnt from his mother. The corn-fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests， in the midst of which were deep pools. It was， indeed， delightful to walk about in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house close by a deep river， and from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves， so high， that under the tallest of them a little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest， watching for her young brood to hatch； she was beginning to get tired of her task， for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells， and she seldom had any visitors. The other ducks liked much better to swim about in the river than to climb the slippery banks， and sit under a burdock leaf， to have a gossip with her. At length one shell cracked， and then another， and from each egg came a living creature that lifted its head and cried， “Peep， peep.” “Quack， quack，” said the mother， and then they all quacked as well as they could， and looked about them on every side at the large green leaves. Their mother allowed them to look as much as they liked， because green is good for the eyes. “How large the world is，” said the young ducks， when they found how much more room they now had than while they were inside the egg-shell.” Do you imagine this is the whole world？” asked the mother； “Wait till you have seen the garden； itstretches far beyond that to the parson’s field， but I have never ventured to such a distance. Are you all out？” she continued， rising； “No， I declare， the largest egg lies there still. I wonder how long this is to last， I am quite tired of it”； and she seated herself again on the nest.
“Well， how are you getting on？” asked an old duck， who paid her a visit.
“one egg is not hatched yet，” said the duck， “it will not break. But just look at all the others， are they not the prettiest little ducklings you ever saw？ They are the image of their father， who is so unkind， he never comes to see.”
“Let me see the egg that will not break，” said the duck； “I have no doubt it is a turkey’s egg. I was persuaded to hatch some once， and after all my care and trouble with the young ones， they were afraid of the water. I quacked and clucked， but all to no purpose. I could not get them to venture in. Let me look at the egg. Yes， that is a turkey’s egg； take my advice， leave it where it is and teach the other children to swim.”
“I think l will sit on it a little while longer，” said the duck； “as I have sat so long already， a few days will be nothing.”
“Please yourself，” said the old duck， and she went away.
At last the large egg broke， and a young one crept forth crying， “Peep， peep.” It was very large and ugly. The duck stared at it and exclaimed， “It is very large and not at all like the others. I wonder if it really is a turkey. We shall soon find it out， however when we go to the water. It must go in， if I have to push it myself.”