Hans Christian Andersen Page #4

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I wasn't just an ordinary cobbler.

I only saw people by appointment.

First I looked at them

before I even looked at their shoes,

and if I didn't like them, no shoes.

Do you know that peop...?

Where are you going?

Don't you want to hear the rest of it?

- What's that?

- Your bag. It's all packed, Hans.

- My bag?

- Go to Copenhagen now. Right now.

Are you crazy, Peter?

That was a story I was telling.

Didn't you understand that?

Of course I understood,

but part of it must be like you imagined,

and maybe even great carriages

with fine horses,

beautiful houses three storeys high.

Don't you want to see it for yourself? It's

not so far from here - your bag's packed.

All you have to do is walk out of that door.

Quick! Before you change your mind.

Before I change my mind? Who said

I was going? Just like that, this afternoon?

What's got into you, Peter, anyway?

You forgot about Copenhagen

all these years.

You may forget about it again

until you're too old to go.

No, some day I'm really going

to Copenhagen.

- That's the one thing I'm sure of.

- Who knows?

Has anyone from this village gone

to Copenhagen before? Of course not.

They keep putting it off.

Imagine, Hans, you'll be the first.

What a to-do there'll be tomorrow.

They'll talk of nothing else for days.

"Hans has gone to Copenhagen!"

"Hans has gone to Copenhagen. "

Yes!

What a sign it would make! "Hans

Christian Andersen, gone to Copenhagen"

with little shoes pointing

the way out of town!

I'll make the sign tonight. I see it exactly

as you do - the little shoes, everything!

Goodbye, Hans. Aren't you excited?

Excited? You mean

I really should go, Peter?

Why not? It's only a few days away.

You stay a little while and then come

back, but you've been to Copenhagen.

But it's a big step, Peter.

Still, what's to stop me?

My goodness, I am getting excited!

Hans!

If anyone had told me this morning

that I'd decide to go to Copenhagen...

- Start walking!

- Imagine, Peter.

I've decided to go to Copenhagen,

just like I made it up in a story.

- Goodbye, Hans.

- Goodbye, Peter.

Goodbye, Peter, and take care of yourself.

I'll only be gone a few days.

- Tell the children goodbye for me.

- I will.

Imagine, Peter - Copenhagen!

Goodbye, Peter.

Hello.

Oh, my goodness. My feet hurt.

I cannot understand

why these shoes hurt me so.

I made them myself. You're lucky.

You don't have to wear shoes.

I can never understand why people

use that expression "A dog's life".

Every dog I ever knew

seemed to have a very nice life indeed.

You've no idea, and maybe

it's just as good you don't.

Back in the village, if people

saw me talking to you like this,

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