After a time, however, the men tired of Hans and his songs, and he had to take his place amongst the other boys, who, being jealous of the notice that had been taken of Hans, led him a sorry life. At last he could bear their persecution no more, and left the factory—never to return to it.
The next few months he spent quietly at home, reading eagerly any book he could get hold of, and specially delighting in a copy of Shakespeare. The old toy theatre was had out once more, and the puppets were put through the scenes of the Merchant of Venice and King Lear.
After a short time it was decided that Hans was to be apprenticed to a tailor. Hans, however, had other ambitions than to sit cross-legged on a board; he had read much lately of famous men, and he now said to his mother, 'I want to be famous, too!'
He had his plans all made, and had, he said, plenty of money to carry them out, for he had lately earned the immense sum (as it seemed to him) of thirty shillings, by singing and reciting at the houses of rich people. With this capital he begged his mother to let him go to Copenhagen and try his fortune.
She consented unwillingly at last, and the fourteen-year-old boy set off to make his own way in the world.
He reached Copenhagen—the city which now proudly claims him for her own—late one September afternoon, and at once went to the theatre and begged for employment, telling the manager he had a good voice and loved acting.
'You are too thin for the stage,' said the manager, shortly.
'Let me have a salary of a hundred dollars, sir, and I will soon grow fat,' quickly answered the boy.
'We only take people of education here,' said the manager, and poor Hans had to go away with a heavy heart.
Could he only have foreseen that in a few years' time his own plays would be acted at that very theatre, and a throng of eager citizens would be applauding the words of the now friendless boy!