介绍： 公众号：MT英语（ID:mtkouyu）
专辑;【英文原版童话故事】
文本整理： Leeven

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There was once a merchant who was so rich th...

介绍： 公众号：MT英语（ID:mtkouyu）
专辑;【英文原版童话故事】
文本整理： Leeven

喜欢本节目的朋友们还可订阅【外教Karina教你说英语】【欧美视角】【英国人谈文化差异】【学英语看世界】【英美电影赏析】等电台；想要获取更多英语学习资料，可关注微信公众号“口语精选（ID:mtkouyu）”

There was once a merchant who was so rich that he could have paved the whole street, and perhaps even a little side street besides, with silver. But he did not do that; for he knew other ways to spend his money. If he spent a shilling he got back a pound, such an excellent businessman was he till he died.
从前有一个商人，非常有钱，他的银元可以用来铺满一整条街，而且多余的还可以用来铺一条小巷。不过他没有这样作：他有别的方法使用他的钱，他拿出一个毫子，必定要赚回一些钱。他就是这样一个商人——后来他死了。

Now his son inherited all this money. He lived very merrily. He went every night to the theatre, made paper kites out of five pound notes, and played ducks and drakes with sovereigns instead of stones. In this way the money was likely to come soon to an end - and so it did.
他的儿子现在继承了全部的钱财；他生活得很愉快；他每晚去参加化装跳舞会，用纸币做风筝，用金币——而不用石片——在海边玩着打水漂的游戏。这样，钱就很容易花光了；他的钱就真的这样花光了。

At last he had nothing left but four shillings, and he had no clothes except a pair of slippers and an old dressing gown.
最后他只剩下四个毫子，此外还有一双便鞋和一件旧睡衣。

His friends did not trouble themselves anymore about him; they would not even walk down the street with him. But one of them who was rather good-natured sent him an old trunk with the message, "Pack up!" now a trunk is a big wooden box with the left and that become very useful for carrying few things. That was all very well, but he had nothing to pack up, so he got into the trunk himself.
他的朋友们现在再也不愿意跟他来往了，因为他再也不能跟他们一道逛街。不过这些朋友中有一位心地很好的人，送给他一只箱子，说：“把你的东西收拾进去吧！”这意思是很好的，但是他并没有什么东西可以收拾进去，因此他就自己坐进箱子里去。【因字数限制，无法上传完整翻译，请见谅】

It was an enchanted trunk, for as soon as the lock was pressed it could fly. He pressed it, and away he flew in it up the chimney, high into the clouds, further and further away. But whenever the bottom gave a little creak he was in terror lest the trunk should go to pieces, for then he would have turned a dreadful somersault and fallen through the cloud on to the ground- just think of it!

But the trunk did not give away and it on he through. In this way he arrived at the land of the Turks. He hid the trunk in a wood under some dry leaves, and then walked into the town. He could do that quite well, for all the local people were dressed no so differently from him in gown and slippers.

He met a nurse with a little child.
"Hallo, Mr. Nani," said he. "What is that great castle there close to the town? The one with the windows so high up."
"The sultan’s daughter lives there," she replied. "It is prophesied that she will be very unlucky in her husband, and so no one is allowed to see her except when the sultan and sultana are by. Are sure you properly know, the sultan and sultana with the names for the King and Queen of Turkey.

"Thank you," said the merchant’s son, and he went into the wood, sat himself in his trunk, flew on to the roof, and crept through the window into the princess’ room.
She was lying on the sofa asleep, and was so beautiful that the young merchant had to kiss her. Then she woke up and was very much frightened, but he said he was a Turkish god who had come through the air to see her, and that pleased her very much.

They sat close to each other, and he told her a story about her eyes. They were beautiful dark lakes in which her thoughts swam about like mermaids. And her forehead was a snowy mountain, grand and shining. These were lovely stories.

Then he asked the princess to marry him, and she said yes at once.
"But you must come here on Saturday," she said, "for then the sultan and the sultana are coming to tea with me. They will be indeed proud that I receive the god of the Turks. But mind you have a really good story ready, for my parents like them immensely. My mother likes something rather moral and high-flown, and my father likes something merry to make him laugh."

"Yes”he replied “I shall bring a very best fairy story but it spot serious on funny. But the princess gave him a sabre which is curb sold set with money.
Then he flew away, bought himself a new dressing gown, and sat down in the wood and began to make up a story, for it had to be ready by Saturday, and that was no easy matter. When he had it ready it was Saturday.

The sultan, the sultana, and the whole court red tea with the princess. He was most graciously received.

"Will you tell us a story?" Said the sultana. "One that is thoughtful and instructive?"
"But something that we can laugh at," said the sultan.

"Oh, certainly," he replied, and began, "Now, listen attentively. There was once a box of matches which lay between a tinderbox and an old iron pot, and they told the story of their youth..."

"We wooden magic used to be brought him on the green fir-boughs. Every morning and evening they till spot kid of like diamond and the whole day long we had sunshine, and the little birds used to tell us stories. We were very rich, because the other trees only dressed in summer, but we had green leaves for us cloth in summer and in winter. Then the woodcutter came, and our family was split up. We have now the task of making light for people. That is why we live in the kitchen.”

"My fate was quite different," said the iron pot, near which the matches lay.
"Since I came into the world I have been many times scoured, clay with the white brush and I can tell you.“It doesn't feel very pleasant and besides that I have ever cooked so many. My only pleasure is to have a good chat with my companions when I am lying nice and clean in my place after dinner."

"Now you are talking too fast," spluttered the fire.
"Yes, let us decide who is the grandest!" Said the matches.
"No, I don’t like talking about myself," said the pot.

The oven said “I will tell you the story of my life.” Once upon a time on the Baltic Sea on the shore of Denmark...."

"What a beautiful beginning!" Said all the plates. “That’s a story that will please us all.” And the end was just as good as the beginning. All the plates clattered for joy.
"Now I will dance," said the fire tongs, who used to pick up coal for the fire with her legs and she danced. Oh! how high she could kick! The old chair cover in the corner split when he saw her. The kettle would have sung but she said she had a cold; she could not sing unless she boiled. In the window was an old quill pen, made out of feather for dipping into the ink. There was nothing remarkable about her except that she had been dipped too deeply into the ink. But she was very proud of that.

"If the kettle will not sing," said she, "outside the door hangs a nightingale in a cage who will sing."

"I don’t think it’s right," said the kettle, "that such a beautiful bird should be kept in a cage and made it to sing for entertainment."
"Oh, let us have some play acting," said everyone. “Do let us!”

Suddenly the door opened and a servant girl came in. Everyone was quite quiet. There was not a sound. But each pot for he was cleverest and the best looking object in the kitchen. The servant girl took the matches and lit the fire with them. How they spluttered and flamed, to be sure! “Now everyone can see,” they thought, "that we are the prettiest! How we sparkle! What a light we make! We are so bright and beautiful!" But in that moment, they were burnt out on the matches with no more"
And that was the end of the young man story.

"That was a delightful story!" Said the sultana. "I quite feel myself in the kitchen with the matches. Yes, now you shall marry our daughter."
"Yes, indeed," said the sultan, "you shall marry our daughter on Monday." And they treated the young man as one of the family.

The wedding was arranged, and the night before the whole town was illuminated.
Biscuits and ginger breads were thrown among the people, the street boys stood on tip-toe crying hurrahs and whistling through their fingers. It was all splendid.

"Now I must also give them a treat," thought the merchant’s son. And so he bought rockets, crackers, and all the kinds of fireworks you can think of, put them in his trunk, and flew up with them into the air.

Whirr-r-r! How they fizzed and blazed! All the Turks jumped so high that their slippers flew above their heads; such a splendid glitter they had never seen before.
Now they could quite well understand that it was the god of the Turks himself who was to marry the princess.

As soon as the young merchant came down again into the wood with his trunk he thought, "Now I will just go into the town to see how the show has taken."

And it was quite natural that he should want to do this. Oh! What stories the people had to tell! Each one whom he asked had seen it differently.

"I saw the Turkish god himself," said one. "He had eyes like glittering stars, and a beard like foaming water."

"He flew away in a cloak of fire," said another. They were splendid things that he heard, and the next day was to be his wedding day.

Then he went back into the wood to sit in his trunk; but what had become of it? The trunk had been burnt. A spark of the fireworks had set it alight, and the trunk was in ashes. He could no longer fly, and could never reach his bride.

The princess stood the whole day long on the roof and waited for the young merchant; perhaps she is waiting there still.

But he wandered through the world and told stories; though they are not so merry as the one he told about the matches.