In the middle of the cupboard door was the carved
figure of a man.... He had goat’s legs,
little horns on his head, and a long beard; the children
in the room called him, “Major-General-field-sergeant
-commander-Billy-goat’s-legs” ...
He was always looking at the table under the looking-glass
where stood a very pretty little shepherdess made
of china.... Close by her side stood a little
chimney-sweep, as black as coal and also made of china....
Near to them stood another figure.... He was
an old Chinaman who could nod his head, and used to
pretend he was the grandfather of the shepherdess,
although he could not prove it. He, however, assumed
authority over her, and therefore when “Major-general-field-sergeant-commander-Billy-goat’s
-legs” asked for the little shepherdess to be
his wife, he nodded his head to show that he consented.
Then the little shepherdess cried, and looked at her
sweetheart, the chimney-sweep. “I must
entreat you,” said she, “to go out with
me into the wide world, for we cannot stay here.”
... When the chimney-sweep saw that she was quite
firm, he said, “My way is through the stove up
the chimney.” ... So at last they reached
the top of the chimney.... The sky with all its
stars was over their heads.... They could see
for a very long distance out into the wide world,
and the poor little shepherdess leaned her head on
her chimney-sweep’s shoulder and wept. “This
is too much,” she said, “the world is
too large.” ... And so with a great deal
of trouble they climbed down the chimney and peeped
out.... There lay the old Chinaman on the floor
... broken into three pieces.... “This is
terrible,” said the shepherdess. “He
can be riveted,” said the chimney-sweep....
The family had the Chinaman’s back mended and
a strong rivet put through his neck; he looked as
good as new, but when “Major-General-field-sergeant-commander-Billy-goat’s-legs”
again asked for the shepherdess to be his wife, the
old Chinaman could no longer nod his head.
And so the little china people remained together and
were thankful for the rivet in grandfather’s
neck, and continued to love each other until they
were broken to pieces.
"A singer, eh?... Well, well!
but when he sings Take jealous heed lest idiosyncrasies
Entinge and taint too deep his melodies; See that
his lute has no discordant strings To harrow us;
and let his vaporings Be all of virtue and its victories,
And of man’s best and noblest qualities, And
scenery, and flowers, and similar things.
“Thus bid our paymasters whose mutterings
Some few deride, and blithely link their
rhymes
At random; and, as ever, on frail wings
Of wine-stained paper scribbled with such
rhymes
Men mount to heaven, and loud laughter
springs
From hell’s midpit, whose fuel is
such rhymes.”
