Hans Christian Andersen Page #3

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Good morning, schoolmaster.

Oh, Hans.

- Let me explain...

- Out of my way!

I am talking sense,

and that is exactly what I want.

Either Hans Christian Andersen

leaves this town or I do.

Surely, schoolmaster, a little story

now and then - not during school hours.

It is not just now and then, it is all the time.

When they are late,

he gives them excuses.

"The snow queen took me

to see the king of the mountain!"

That is true.

I asked my Gerda what time it was.

She said the minute hand and the hour

hand were not speaking to each other.

They were both in love

with the second hand.

They wouldn't meet till 12 o'clock,

and no one could tell the time until then.

- I like that.

- Like it?

We pay our taxes for the school, not for

Hans to fill their heads with foolishness.

But Hans's stories are good.

The children learn from them.

- They are not foolish stories.

- I would like to know now.

I would like to pack up tonight.

Tomorrow, you'll be looking

for a new cobbler or a new teacher.

Gentlemen...

It is decided. The cobbler must leave.

- But...

- Quiet!

I'll tell Hans myself. It will not be pleasant,

but I see it has to be done.

Perhaps it's all for the best.

Tell Hans to wait in the shop for me.

I'll talk to him before supper.

Come, gentlemen.

- Hello, Hans.

- Hello, Peter.

- Was it nice by the river?

- Just perfect.

Did we have any customers today?

Not one. It just gets slower and slower.

Don't you think we should go to a larger

city where shoes wear out faster?

And be stuck in the shop all day?

No, sir. I like business to be a little slow.

There's time enough for everything here.

That's what I mean, Hans. No shoes

wear out. No one ever leaves.

Not one person in this village

has ever been to Copenhagen, have they?

That's true, but why should they?

I never think about Copenhagen - do you?

Do I? What do you suppose

Copenhagen is really like?

It's a funny thing, now that you mention it.

I used to think about Copenhagen a lot.

I used to make up the most wonderful

stories about going there.

I used to think about Copenhagen

a lot when I was your age.

My husband says the shoes hurt.

- They squeak and the left one doesn't fit.

- That's all? That's not too bad, Mrs Burda.

I sometimes think

that shoes have a life of their own.

The ones that squeak

don't like to leave the shop,

and the ones that hurt

don't like whoever's wearing them.

Please, Hans, just fix the shoes.

I've got my own life to worry about.

When Mr Burda's feet hurt,

he drives the whole house crazy.

Hans, tell me. What kind of stories

did you make up about Copenhagen?

Oh... I used to dream about having

the finest cobbler shop in Copenhagen.

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