THE SHOES OF FORTUNE (II) Tương tự truyện cổ Grim, truyển cổ Andersen cũng là 1 trong những tác phẩm nổi tiếng thế giới . đây là bản tiếng anh cảu bộ truyện này. | THE SHOES OF FORTUNE III The Watchman s Adventure Why there is a pair of galoshes as sure as I m alive said the watchman awaking from a gentle slumber. They belong no doubt to the lieutenant who lives over the way. They lie close to the door. The worthy man was inclined to ring and deliver them at the house for there was still a light in the window but he did not like disturbing the other people in their beds and so very considerately he left the matter alone. Such a pair of shoes must be very warm and comfortable said he the leather is so soft and supple. They fitted his feet as though they had been made for him. Tis a curious world we live in continued he soliloquizing. There is the lieutenant now who might go quietly to bed if he chose where no doubt he could stretch himself at his ease but does he do it No he saunters up and down his room because probably he has enjoyed too many of the good things of this world at his dinner. That s a happy fellow He has neither an infirm mother nor a whole troop of everlastingly hungry children to torment him. Every evening he goes to a party where his nice supper costs him nothing would to Heaven I could but change with him How happy should I be While expressing his wish the charm of the shoes which he had put on began to work the watchman entered into the being and nature of the lieutenant. He stood in the handsomely furnished apartment and held between his fingers a small sheet of rose-colored paper on which some verses were written written indeed by the officer himself for who has not at least once in his life had a lyrical moment And if one then marks down one s thoughts poetry is produced. But here was written OH WERE I RICH Oh were I rich Such was my wish yea such When hardly three feet high I longed for much. Oh were I rich an officer were I With sword and uniform and plume so high. And the time came and officer was I But yet I grew not rich. Alas poor me Have pity Thou who all man s wants dost see. I sat one evening .
