Chapter 2
Marie had lingered near the Christmas table when the others had left because she had seen something nobody else seemed to have noticed. After Fritz had disengaged his hussars from parading about the tree, a splendid little man became visible. He stood there quietly and modestly, as if waiting his turn.
His build left much to be desired: aside from the fact that his stocky and somewhat long upper body didn’t quite fit his small and spindly legs, his head was much too large. However, his fine clothing suggested that he was a man of taste and education: he wore a beautiful hussar’s jacket of vivid violet with lots of white trimming and buttons with matching trousers. He wore the most beautiful pair of boots that a student, or even an officer, had ever worn. They were so tight on his legs that they seemed to be painted on.
Somewhat amusingly, a narrow and clumsy cloak was attached to his back that seemed to be made of wood. He also wore what looked like a miner’s hat on his head. However, Marie remembered that Drosselmeier wore an awful morning coat and an equally dreadful hat, but nevertheless was a kind and loving godfather.
It also occurred to Marie that if Drosselmeier were to dress as elegantly as the tiny man, he would not look nearly as handsome.
She had quite fallen in love with the tiny man at first sight, and the more she looked at him, the more she could appreciate his good-natured face. His light green eyes, though protruding, were kind and friendly. The craftsman who had given him his combed white beard had done a fine job, for it made his sweet red smile stand out even more.
“Oh!” Marie exclaimed at last. “Papa, who does the charming little man at the tree belong to?”
“That,” her father said, “that, dear, will work hard for all of you to crack many a tough nut, and he belongs as much to Louise as to you and Fritz.”
He gently removed the little man from the table and lifted up his wooden cloak. His mouth opened wide and wider, revealing two rows of sharp, white teeth. At her father’s behest, Marie put a nut into the little man’s mouth and – crack! – the nut’s shells fell away, and the sweet meat inside fell into her hand.
Her father then explained that the Nutcracker – for that is what the tiny man was – had descended from a long line of Nutcrackers. The children shouted with joy, and Dr. Stahlbaum said, “Marie, since you’re so fond of the Nutcracker, you can look after him. But remember, Louise and Fritz have as much right to use him as you.”
Marie immediately took the Nutcracker into her arms and gave him nuts to crack, though she always chose the smallest so he wouldn’t have to open his mouth very wide, as she felt it wasn’t very attractive. Louise came over to use the Nutcracker, and their new friend cracked nuts for her, too. His friendly smile made it seem that he was happy to serve them.
Fritz presently grew tired from his drilling and riding, and when he heard his sisters cracking nuts he went over to investigate. He laughed heartily at the funny-looking little man.
Now Fritz wanted to eat nuts, and the Nutcracker was passed from hand to hand between the three of them. Fritz shoved the biggest and toughest nuts into his mouth. Suddenly, there was a dreadful cracking sound that wasn’t from the shell of a nut – and three teeth fell out of the Nutcracker’s mouth, and his jaw hung loose and wobbly.
“Oh! My poor dear Nutcracker!” Marie wailed, and took him from Fritz’s hands.
“He’s a naive, stupid amateur,” Fritz declared. “He probably doesn’t even understand his own craft. Just give him to me, Marie, and he’ll crack nuts for me, even if he loses the rest of his teeth – or even his good-for-nothing jaw.”
“No, no!” Marie had begun to cry. “You can’t have my dear Nutcracker. Look at how sadly he looks at me and shows me his wounded mouth! You’re a cold-hearted person! You’ve beaten your horses and you even had a soldier shot!”
“It had to be done. You don’t understand these things,” Fritz said. “The Nutcracker is mine, too, so give him to me.”
Marie began to cry harder and wrapped the injured Nutcracker in her little handkerchief. Then their parents came in with Godfather Drosselmeier, who to Marie’s dismay took Fritz’s side.
However, her father said, “I have specifically placed the Nutcracker into Marie’s care, which I can see he clearly needs right now, so no-one may take him from her. Also, I’m very surprised at Fritz – as a good soldier, he should know that an injured man is never sent out to fight.”
Fritz looked very ashamed of himself, and without another word concerning nuts and nutcrackers crept off to the other side of the table, where he posted some of his hussars as look-outs and sent the rest to bed for the night.
Marie found Nutcracker’s lost teeth and tied a pretty white ribbon from her dress around his injured jaw as a bandage. The poor fellow looked pale and frightened, so she held him more carefully than before, as if he were a small child, and looked at the beautiful pictures in the new picture-books, which were now among the other presents.
Marie became quite angry – which was was quite unlike her – when godfather Drosselmeier laughed and continually asked how she could humor such an ugly little man so.
The Nutcracker’s odd similarity to Drosselmeier came back to Marie’s mind, and she said very seriously, “I’m not sure, dear godfather, if you were dressed like my dear nutcracker and had such nice shiny boots, whether you would look as nice as he does.”
Marie had no idea why her parents suddenly laughed so loud, or why Drosselmeier’s nose turned so red, or why his laugh seemed so weak. There was probably some reason for it.
In the highest shelf (too high for Fritz and Marie to reach) were godfather Drosselmeier’s works of art. On the shelf below were the picture-books, and on the two shelves below that Fritz and Marie could put whatever they wanted, though it always happened that Marie put her dolls on the bottom shelf and Fritz quartered his soldiers on the shelf above it.
And so tonight Fritz put his hussars in the second shelf, and Marie moved Madame Trudie out of the way to make room for her new doll in the beautifully-furnished room and invited herself in for sweets.
As I’ve said, the room was very beautifully-furnished, and that’s the truth. I don’t know whether you, my attentive reader, have such a nice miniature flower-print sofa, charming little chairs, an adorable tea-table – and best of all, a bed with a bright and shiny frame for your most beautiful dolls to rest on. Everything stood in the cabinet’s corner, where the walls were papered with colorful little pictures, and you can well imagine that the new doll Marie had received (whose name was Madame Clarette, as Marie had learned that evening) was quite content with her quarters.
It was now very late – almost midnight, and Godfather Drosselmeier had long since gone home. But the children did not want to leave the cabinet, so their mother had to remind them that it was time for bed.
“You’re right,” Fritz said finally. “The poor fellows” (referring to his hussars) “want a little peace and quiet, and they don’t dare nod off while I’m still around!” And so Fritz scampered off.
But Marie said, “Just a little while longer, just a minute. Leave me here, Mama. I have some things to take care of, and once I finish I’ll go straight to bed.”
Marie was a trustworthy child, so her mother knew she could leave her alone with the toys without worry. Still, she was concerned that Marie might be so distracted by her new doll and the other new toys that she might forget to put out the lights before leaving, so Mrs. Stahlbaum extinguished all of the lights except for the one that hung from the middle of the ceiling, which cast a gentle, graceful light into the room.
“Come to bed soon, dear, or you won’t be able to get up on time!” she called as she left for her bedroom. Once Marie was alone, she hurried to do what had been on her mind, something that she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been able to mention to her mother earlier. She carried the injured Nutcracker to the table and gently set him there, where she unwrapped her makeshift bandages to see the wound. The Nutcracker was very pale, but he smiled a kind, sad smile that wrenched her heart.
“Oh, Nutcracker,” she said softly, “I know Fritz hurt you badly, but he didn’t mean any harm. It’s just that his wild soldier’s life has made him a little hard-hearted, but otherwise he’s a very good boy. I promise I’ll take very good care of you until you’re healthy and happy and can use your teeth and stand with your shoulders straight. Godfather Drosselmeier will fix you up, he knows all about-”
Marie could not finish what she had started saying because when she had said the name “Drosselmeier,” Nutcracker’s face had turned up in disgust and his eyes shot green sparks. But just as she became frightened, Nutcracker looked at her with his kind, sad smile again. Marie realized that the awful face she had seen was only a trick of the light caused by the flickering lamp above.
“I’m not a silly girl who gets scared so easily, who thinks that a wooden doll could make faces!” Marie told herself. “But I love Nutcracker because he’s so funny and kind, which is why he must be looked after – which is proper.”
So Marie took her friend the Nutcracker into her arms and took him to the glass-fronted cabinet, where she knelt down in front of it. “I request, Miss Clarette, that you give up your bed to the injured Nutcracker, and manage with the sofa as well as you can. Remember, you’re quite healthy and full of energy, because otherwise you wouldn’t have such round red cheeks – and anyway, very few dolls – even the most beautiful – have such a comfortable sofa.”
Madame Clarette looked very grand and morose in her Christmas finery, but she didn’t make a peep.
“What else can I do?” Marie wondered. She took the bed out of the cabinet and gently laid Nutcracker upon it, still wrapped in a beautiful waist-sash from his sore shoulders to above his nose.
“He can’t stay with naughty Clarette,” she said, and lifted the bed along with the Nutcracker up to the second shelf, where she placed it next to the picturesque village where Fritz had stationed his hussars. She locked the cabinet and was making her to make her way to her bedroom when – pay attention now! – a quiet whispering and rustling sound came from behind the stove, the chairs, and the walls. The clock whirred over them, but it didn’t strike. Marie looked up at the clock, and the large gold-painted owl that sat on the top had lowered its wings so that the whole clock was covered, and its ugly cat-like head and beak jutted forward. What’s more, the owl seemed to be speaking with audible words:
Tick-tock, Stahlbaum clocks, only whir and purr
Mouse-king is so sharp of ear (whir whir, purr purr) Only sing the old song (whir whir, purr purr)
Ding dong, ding dong. I promise you, he won’t last long
Marie was now terrified and was just about to run away when she saw that godfather Drosselmeier, not the owl, was sitting on top of the clock. What she had taken for wings were really his yellow coat tails.
Marie gathered up what little courage she had left and cried up tearfully, “godfather Drosselmeier! Godfather Drosselmeier! What are you doing up there? Come down and stop scaring me, you bad Godfather Drosselmeier!”
But suddenly there was a great commotion all around – first a shrill giggling and squeaking, then a pitter-patter like a thousand tiny feet behind the walls, and then a thousand tiny lights peeping out from the cracks in the floorboards. No – not lights! They were small, twinkling eyes! From every crack and crevice, mice had begun to squidge and squeeze their furry gray bodies into the room. Soon there were packs of mice running back and forth everywhere, until they all stood in rank and file just as Fritz would position his soldiers before a battle.
Marie thought they looked quite cute (unlike some children, she was not at all afraid of mice), and her fear had all but passed when a squeal so shrill and sharp pierced the air that it made ice-cold shivers run through her back! And oh, what she saw!
Now dear readers, I know that you’re just as clever and courageous as young Commander Fritz Stahlbaum, but I honestly think if you had seen what stood before Marie’s eyes, you would have run away, jumped into your bed, and pulled up the covers high above your ears.
But poor Marie couldn’t run to the safety of her bedroom, because – listen! – just in front of her feet, a plume of sand, lime, and brick shards spouted into the air as if by some underground force, and seven mouse heads with seven shining crowns rose hissing and squeaking from the ground. Then up came a mouse’s body, at whose neck all seven heads were attached. The mouse army gave three cheers in unison upon the arrival of this horrendous beast.
The mouse army had been sitting until now, but now they hopped to their feet and set themselves into motion. They hopped right toward the cabinet – and toward Marie, who stood near it. She was so terrified that her heart beat so violently she thought it might jump out of her chest and she would die. Then her blood seemed to stand completely still in her veins.
Nearly fainting, she stepped backward – and with a crash and a tinkle, shards of glass fell from the cabinet doorpane, which she had accidentally pushed her elbow into. She felt a very sharp pain in her left arm, but her chest untightened and she no longer heard the squeaks and squeals of the mice. Everything had become completely quiet, and although she didn’t look she believed that the noise of the breaking glass had frightened them into scampering back into their holes.
But wait! What was that? Just behind Marie, in the cabinet, a small, delicate voice began: “Awake! Awake! Onto battle! This very night! Awake! Awake!”
And then there was a beautiful and musical tinkling of bells. “Oh, that’s my miniature carillon!” Marie exclaimed happily. She jumped quickly to the side and looked inside the cabinet. There was a strange glow coming from within, and several dolls were running helter-skelter with their small arms waving about. Suddenly, Nutcracker rose up, threw off his blanket, and jumped with both feet out of the bed, and loudly shouted:
“Crack crack crack! Stupid mousepack! Squeaking, squealing! Gnawing, clawing! Crack crack crack!
Stupid mousepack!”
And Nutcracker drew his little sword, brandished it in the air, and shouted, “my dear vassals, friends, and brothers, will you assist me in this difficult fight?”
Three scaramouches, a Pantaloon, four chimney sweeps, two zither players, and a drummer immediately shouted, “Yes, my lord! We will loyally follow you through death, victory, and battle!”
Inspired by the Nutcracker’s speech, they made the dangerous leap down from the second shelf to the floor.
They were not at all hurt because, not only were they dressed in soft wool and silk, there wasn’t much inside them other than cotton and sawdust. So they plopped down like little sacks of wool.
Nutcracker, on the other hand, would have almost certainly broken himself to pieces. He he two feet to fall to the ground, and his body was as brittle as linden wood. Indeed, he would have likely broken his arms and legs had not Madame Clarette sprang from the sofa and thrust herself out from the bottom shelf to catch the Nutcracker (who had descended brandishing his sword) in her arms.
“Oh, good dear Clarette!” Marie cried. “I’ve misjudged you so badly. I’m sure you were happy to give the Nutcracker your bed!”
But Madame Clarette spoke now, embracing the young hero in her silken chest. “Please, my lord, as injured and sick as you are, do not go into the battle. See how your courageous vassals are ready to fight and how certain they are of victory. Scaramouche, Pantaloon, chimney sweep, zither player, and drummer are already down, and you can see that the standard bearers on my shelf are moving. Please, my lord, either rest in my arms or watch your victory from the brim of my feathered hat.”
Thus Clarette spoke, but Nutcracker refused to be still and kicked his legs until she had no choice to put him down.
Nutcracker politely bowed on one knee and said, “My lady, I will always remember your grace and compassion in combat and strife.”
Then Clarette bent down, so she could take Nutcracker by the arm. She gently lifted him up, quickly took off her sequined cincher, and tried to put it about his shoulders as a cape. But he took two steps back, put his hand on his breast, and said solemnly, “Please do not waste your favours on me, my lady, because…” he paused, then tore off the ribbon that Marie had put about his shoulders and pressed it to his lips. He let it fall, and it hung from him like a field bandage.
Brandishing his sword, he jumped as nimbly as a bird over the ledge of the bottom shelf and down to the floor.
The Nutcracker had felt Marie’s love and kindness before he was properly alive, which is why he preferred Marie’s simple white ribbon over Clarette’s, even though it was quite shiny and looked very pretty.
And what now?
As Nutcracker jumped down, the squeaks and squeals began again. What a noise! Under the big Christmas table, the deadly hordes of mice waited, and over all of them the monstrous mouse with seven heads loomed.
What will happen next?
❒
