“It certainly is a fine story,” Dino assured her; “just listen: She had a step-brother who was a wash boiler—you see, you have laughed again! That’s the way! So they went together to Paris, where there was a revolution.”
“What is a revolution?” Cornelli asked, quite thrilled.
“See how the story interests you!” said Dino, thoroughly pleased. “You have no more wrinkles on your forehead, because you are listening well. Didn’t I guess what you have to do? I’ll go on now. You call it a revolution when nobody wants to remain in their old places and everything goes to pieces.”
“What do you mean by going to pieces? Do you mean it the way chairs begin to go to pieces when the glue comes off and the legs get loose and shaky?”
“Just that way,” Dino assented. “When all laws and orders begin to go to pieces like chairs, when the glue is off and everything crashes and tumbles down; do you understand?”
“Yes. And what happened?” Cornelli wanted to know.
“The travellers liked that well,” Dino continued, “for they were full of discontented thoughts. The copper pan had thought for a long time that she wanted to be something else. She was tired of cooking greasy food and of all the time being full of soot at the bottom; she wanted to be something better. The wash boiler had similar thoughts. He thought he would be much better off as a nice tea kettle. He thought how nice it would be to stand on a fine table, so he wanted to get away from the laundry.
“When they came to the revolution they joined in it, too. They became quite famous making speeches, for they both could talk very well. The wash boiler had learned it from the washer women, and the copper pan from the cook. So they were both asked what they wanted to become. The copper pan wanted to become an ice box; she wanted to sparkle outside with fine wood and inside with splendid ice. The wash boiler wanted to become a fine tea kettle and be able to stand on a finely laid-out table. So they both became what they had wished.
“But the copper pan, who had been used to the cosy fire, began to shake and freeze when the ice filled her whole inside. Her teeth were chattering while she looked about to see if she could discover a little fire anywhere. But nobody ever brought any burning spark near her. She suffered the bitterest hunger besides, because she had been used to quite different nourishment from fat morsels roasting in her insides. Now she had to swallow little lumps of ice and nothing else. She was not a bit pleased with shining outside and in, for she had to think all the time: how terrible it is to starve and freeze to death.
“The tea kettle meanwhile was standing on a beautifully set table. Many splendidly dressed young ladies and gentlemen were sitting around him and drinking tea out of fine china cups, and eating from lovely gold-rimmed plates. The tea kettle felt flattered and said to himself: ‘Oh, now I can be anybody’s equal.’ But one of the ladies said: ‘I can smell tar soap and I think it comes from this tea kettle. I wonder what that means?’ Her neighbor laughed and said: ‘I noticed it long ago. I hope it has not been used for washing stockings.’ So they looked at the kettle and sniffed and turned up their noses with disdain.