The False Collar

by Hans Christian Andersen

　　

---

There was once a fine gentleman, all of whose moveables were a boot-jack and ahair-comb: but he had the finest false collars in the world; and it is aboutone of these collars that we are now to hear a story. It was so old, that it began to think of marriage; and it happened that itcame to be washed in company with a garter. "Nay!" said the collar. "I never did see anything so slender and so fine, sosoft and so neat. May I not ask your name?" "That I shall not tell you!" said the garter. "Where do you live?" asked the collar. But the garter was so bashful, so modest, and thought it was a strangequestion to answer. "You are certainly a girdle," said the collar; "that is to say an insidegirdle. I see well that you are both for use and ornament, my dear younglady." "I will thank you not to speak to me," said the garter. "I think I have notgiven the least occasion for it." "Yes! When one is as handsome as you," said the collar, "that is occasionenough." "Don't come so near me, I beg of you!" said the garter. "You look so much likethose men-folks." "I am also a fine gentleman," said the collar. "I have a bootjack and ahair-comb." But that was not true, for it was his master who had them: but he boasted. "Don't come so near me," said the garter: "I am not accustomed to it." "Prude!" exclaimed the collar; and then it was taken out of the washing-tub.It was starched, hung over the back of a chair in the sunshine, and was thenlaid on the ironing-blanket; then came the warm box-iron. "Dear lady!" saidthe collar. "Dear widow-lady! I feel quite hot. I am quite changed. I begin tounfold myself. You will burn a hole in me. Oh! I offer you my hand." "Rag!" said the box-iron; and went proudly over the collar: for she fanciedshe was a steam-engine, that would go on the railroad and draw the waggons."Rag!" said the box-iron. The collar was a little jagged at the edge, and so came the long scissors tocut off the jagged part. "Oh!" said the collar. "You are certainly the firstopera dancer. How well you can stretch your legs out! It is the most gracefulperformance I have ever seen. No one can imitate you." "I know it," said the scissors. "You deserve to be a baroness," said the collar. "All that I have is a finegentleman, a boot-jack, and a hair-comb. If I only had the barony!" "Do you seek my hand?" said the scissors; for she was angry; and without moreado, she CUT HIM, and then he was condemned. "I shall now be obliged to ask the hair-comb. It is surprising how well youpreserve your teeth, Miss," said the collar. "Have you never thought of beingbetrothed?" "Yes, of course! you may be sure of that," said the hair-comb. "I AMbetrothed--to the boot-jack!" "Betrothed!" exclaimed the collar. Now there was no other to court, and so hedespised it. A long time passed away, then the collar came into the rag chest at the papermill; there was a large company of rags, the fine by themselves, and thecoarse by themselves, just as it should be. They all had much to say, but thecollar the most; for he was a real boaster. "I have had such an immense number of sweethearts!" said the collar. "I couldnot be in peace! It is true, I was always a fine starched-up gentleman! I hadboth a boot-jack and a hair-comb, which I never used! You should have seen methen, you should have seen me when I lay down! I shall never forget MY FIRSTLOVE--she was a girdle, so fine, so soft, and so charming, she threw herselfinto a tub of water for my sake! There was also a widow, who became glowinghot, but I left her standing till she got black again; there was also thefirst opera dancer, she gave me that cut which I now go with, she was soferocious! My own hair-comb was in love with me, she lost all her teeth fromthe heart-ache; yes, I have lived to see much of that sort of thing;but I am extremely sorry for the garter--I mean the girdle--that went into thewater-tub. I have much on my conscience, I want to become white paper!" And it became so, all the rags were turned into white paper; but the collarcame to be just this very piece of white paper we here see, and on which thestory is printed; and that was because it boasted so terribly afterwards ofwhat had never happened to it. It would be well for us to beware, that we maynot act in a similar manner, for we can never know if we may not, in thecourse of time, also come into the rag chest, and be made into white paper,and then have our whole life's history printed on it, even the most secret,and be obliged to run about and tell it ourselves, just like this collar.

---

---