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"yes, she could sing that!" said he, and nodded to the portrait, which hehad bought at the brokers, and the old mans eyes shone so bright!
"i will go to the wars! i will go to the wars!" shouted the pewter soldier asloud as he could, and threw himself off the drawers right down on the floor.what became of him? the old man sought, and the little boy sought; he wasaway, and he stayed away.
"i shall find him!" said the old man; but he never found him. the floor wastoo open the pewter soldier had fallen through a crevice, and there he lay asin an open tomb.
that day passed, and the little boy went home, and that week passed, andseveral weeks too. the windows were quite frozen, the little boy was obligedto sit and breathe on them to get a peep hole over to the old house, and therethe snow had been blown into all the carved work and inscriptions; it layquite up over the steps, just as if there was no one at home nor was thereany one at home the old man was dead!
in the evening there was a hearse seen before the door, and he was borne intoit in his coffin: he was now to go out into the country, to lie in his grave.he was driven out there, but no one followed; all his friends were dead, andthe little boy kissed his hand to the coffin as it was driven away.
some days afterwards there was an auction at the old house, and the little boysaw from his window how they carried the old knights and the old ladies away,the flower pots with the long ears, the old chairs, and the oldclothes presses. something came here, and something came there; the portraitof her who had been found at the brokers came to the brokers again; andthere it hung, for no one knew her more no one cared about the old picture.
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