安徒生童话：The Candles 烛
there was once a big wax candle who had the highest opinion of his merits.
"i," he said, "am made of the purest wax, cast in the best mold. i burn more brilliantly than any other candle, and i outlast them all. i belong in the high chandelier or the silver candlestick."
"what a delightful life you must lead," the tallow candle admitted. "i am only tallow. just a tallow dip. but it's a comfort to think how much better off i am than the taper. he's only dipped twice, while i am dipped eight times to make a thick and respectable candle of me. i'm satisfied. to be sure it would be better to be born of wax than of tallow, and a lucky thing to be shaped in a mold, but one isn't asked how he wants to be born. your place is in the big rooms with glass chandeliers. mine is in the kitchen. but kitchen is a good place too. all the food in the house comes from there."
"there are more important things in the world than food," the wax candle boasted. "there's the glitter of good society in which i shine. why, i and all my family are invited to a ball that's being given here this very evening."
no sooner had he said this than all the wax candles were sent for. but the tallow candle was not left behind. the mistress of the house took it in her own hand and carried it to the kitchen, where a poor boy waited with his basket full of potatoes and a few apples that she had given him.
" and here's a candle for you too, my little friend," she told him. "your mother can use it to work by when she sits up late at night."
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