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with any other creature, I fain would be such a happy little lark!"

He had hardly uttered these hasty words when the skirts and sleeves of his
coat folded themselves together into wings; the clothes became feathers, and
the galoshes claws. He observed it perfectly, and laughed in his heart. "Now
then, there is no doubt that I am dreaming; but I never before was aware of
such mad freaks as these." And up he flew into the green roof and sang; but in
the song there was no poetry, for the spirit of the poet was gone. The Shoes,
as is the case with anybody who does what he has to do properly, could only
attend to one thing at a time. He wanted to be a poet, and he was one; he now
wished to be a merry chirping bird: but when he was metamorphosed into one,
the former peculiarities ceased immediately. "It is really pleasant enough,"
said he: "the whole day long I sit in the office amid the driest law-papers,
and at night I fly in my dream as a lark in the gardens of Fredericksburg; one
might really write a very pretty comedy upon it." He now fluttered down into
the grass, turned his head gracefully on every side, and with his bill pecked
the pliant blades of grass, which, in comparison to his present size, seemed
as majestic as the palm-branches of northern Africa.

Unfortunately the pleasure lasted but a moment. Presently black night
overshadowed our enthusiast, who had so entirely missed his part of
copying-clerk at a police-office; some vast object seemed to be thrown over
him. It was a large oil-skin cap, which a sailor-boy of the quay had thrown
over the struggling bird; a coarse hand sought its way carefully in under the
broad rim, and seized the clerk over the back and wings. In the first moment
of fear, he called, indeed, as loud as he could--"You impudent little
blackguard! I am a copying-clerk at the police-office; and you know you cannot
insult any belonging to the constabulary force without a chastisement.
Besides, you good-for-nothing rascal, it is strictly forbidden to catch birds
in the royal gardens of Fredericksburg; but your blue uniform betrays where
you come from." This fine tirade sounded, however, to the ungodly sailor-boy
like a mere "Pippi-pi." He gave the noisy bird a knock on his beak, and walked
on.

He was soon met by two schoolboys of the upper class--that is to say as
individuals, for with regard to learning they were in the lowest class in the
school; and they bought the stupid bird. So the copying-clerk came to
Copenhagen as guest, or rather as prisoner in a family living in Gother
Street.

"'Tis well that I'm dreaming," said the clerk, "or I really should get angry.
First I was a poet; now sold for a few pence as a lark; no doubt it was that
accursed poetical nature which has metamorphosed me into such a poor harmless
little creature. It is really pitiable, particularly when one gets into the
hands of a little blackguard, perfect in all sorts of cruelty to animals: all

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