By Hans Christian Andersen
There was once upon a time a darning needle, which thought itself so fine that it imagined that it ought to be a sewing needle. “Take care that you hold me tightly,” said the darning needle to the fingers which took it up. “Do not drop me, for if I fall on the ground one will certainly not find me again, I am so fine!”
“That’s what you say,” said the fingers, and seized her round the body.
“Look out! I am coming with a suite!” said the darning needle, and dragged a long thread after it; but there was no knot in the thread. The fingers directed the needle straight towards the cook’s slipper. The upper leather was torn and had to be mended.
“That’s degrading work,” said the darning needle; “I shall never get through it; I shall break, I shall break!” And really it broke. “Did I not tell you so?” said the darning needle, “I am too fine.”
“Now it’s good fol
nothing,” said the fingers; but yet they had to hold it.
The cook fixed a knob of sealing-wax to the needle, and fastened her neckerchief with it. “So! now
Iam a scarf-pin,” said the needle. “I knew very well
that I should come to honor; when one is worthy one gets on in the world!» And then it laughed to itself; but one never sees when a darning needle laughs. It sat there as proudly as if it was in a state carriage, and looked in all directions.
“May I ask if you are made of gold?” it inquired of a pin, its neighbor.
“You have a bright exterior, and a head of your own, although it is but small!
You must endeavor to grow, for it is not every one who receives a knob of sealing-wax!” Thus saying, the darning needle raised itself so proudly that it fell out of the neckerchief, straight into the sink which the cook was rinsing down. “Now I am going on my travels, said the darning needle, “I hope I shall not be lost!” But it was lost indeed. “I am too fine for this world,” it said, when it was lying in the gutter, “but I know who I am, and that is always a little pleasure.” And the darning needle kept its proud bearing, and did not lose its cheerful temper. All sorts of things passed over it; chips, straws, and bits of old newspaper. “Look how they sail,” said the darning needle, “they do not know what is underneath them! I am sticking fast here. See, there goes a chip, thinking of nothing in the world but itself— a chip! There is a straw drifting by; how it turns round and round! Don’t think only of yourself; you might easily run against a stone. There floats a piece of newspaper; and although what is printed upon it was forgotten long ago, it gives itself airs. I am sitting here patiently and quietly; I know who I am, and that I shall continue to be!” One day something lay by the side of it which glittered so splendidly that the darning needle thought it was a diamond; but it was only a piece of a broken glass bottle, and because it was so bright the darning needle spoke to it, and introduced itself as a scarf-pin. “I suppose you are a diamond?” – “Yes, something of that kind.” And then they both thought each other something very precious; they spoke of the pride of the world.
“I have been in a girl’s box,” said the darning needle, “and this girl was a cook; she had five fingers on each hand, but I have never seen anything so conceited as these fingers! And yet they were only there to take me out of the box, and put me back again.”
“Were they very distinguished?” asked the piece of glass. “Distinguished!” said the darning needle; ” no, but haughty. They were five brothers, all born
fingers. They held proudly together, although they were of different lengths.
The first, the thumb, was short and thick; it stood out of the rank, and had only one joint in its back and could only make one bow; but it said, if it was cut off a man’s hand he could not be a soldier. Sweet-tooth, the second finger, was put into sweet and sour dishes, pointed to the sun and the moon, and made the downstrokes when the fingers wrote. Longman, the third, looked over the heads of all the others. Gold rim, the fourth, wore a golden girdle round the waist; and little Playman did nothing at all, and was proud of it.
They did nothing but brag, and therefore I left them.”
“And now we sit here and glitter,” said the piece of glass. At the same moment more water rushed into the gutter; it overflowed, and carried the piece of glass away. “So, now it is promoted,” said the darning needle, “but I remain here; I am too fine; but that is my pride, and I have good reason for it!” And it sat there proudly and had many great thoughts. “I am almost inclined to think I am the child of a sunbeam, I am so fine! It seems to me as if sunbeams were always looking for me here under the water also! I am so fine that my mother cannot find me. If I had my old eye, the one that broke off, I believe I should cry, but I shall not do it- it is not considered good breeding to cry?” One day, a few urchins lay grubbing in the gutter, where they found old nails, farthings, and suchlike treasures. It was dirty work, but it caused them great pleasure. “Oh!” cried one, who had pricked himself with the darning needle, “look, what a fellow.”
“I am not a fellow, I am a miss,” said the darning needle, but nobody listened to it. The sealing wax had come off and the needle had turned black; but black makes one look thinner, and therefore it thought itself finer than ever.
“Here comes an egg-shell drifting along,” said the boys, and they stuck the darning needle firmly into it. “White walls, and I am black myself” said the darning needle; “that is very becoming; now one can see me at least.
I wish I may not become seasick and break.” But it did not become seasick, nor did it break.
“It is a good thing against seasickness if one has a steel stomach, and does not forget that one is something better than a man. Now my seasickness is past; the finer one is, the more one can bear!”
“Crack,” cried the eggshell, as a heavy cart went over it.
“Good heavens!” said the darning needle, “how it presses! Now I shall
become seasick after all. I am breaking!”
But it did not break, although the heavy cart passed over it; it lay there
full length, and there it may stay.
Fairytales Archive 
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