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.”