Prevod

There was once a skilling that came bright and shining from the Mint, leaping and jingling. “Hurrah! Now I’m off into the wide world!” And off it went. A child held it tight in warm hands, and a miser in cold, clammy ones; older people turned it over and over, while the young let it pass on at once. The skilling was silver, with very little copper in it, and had already spent a whole year in the world—that is to say, travelling about the country where it had been minted. Then it went on a journey abroad. It was the last coin of its own country left in the purse its travelling master carried with him, and he himself did not know he still had it until it happened to slip between his fingers.

“Why, here’s another skilling from home!” he said. “It can come along on the journey!” And the skilling jingled and leapt for joy as he put it back into his purse. There it lay among foreign companions who came and went; one made room for another, but the skilling from home always stayed behind. It was a mark of distinction.

Several weeks had now passed, and the skilling was far out in the world, without quite knowing where. It heard from the other coins that they were French and Italian; one said they were in this town, another said they were in that one, but the skilling could form no idea of it. You do not see the world when you are always shut up in a bag, and that was where it was. But one day, as it lay there, it noticed that the purse was not closed, and crept towards the opening to peep out. Now, it ought not to have done that, but it was curious, and curiosity brings its own punishment. It slipped out into the trouser pocket, and when the purse was put away that evening, the skilling stayed where it was and was carried out into the passage with the clothes. There it promptly fell onto the floor. No one heard it; no one saw it.

In the morning the clothes were brought in, their master put them on and went on his way, and the skilling did not go with him. It was found, put back into service, and sent out with three other coins.

“How pleasant it is to see the world!” thought the skilling. “To meet other people and learn other customs!” “What sort of skilling is this?” someone said at that very moment. “It isn’t the currency of this country! It’s false! No good!”

And now begins the skilling’s story as it afterwards told it. “False! No good! The words went right through me,” said the skilling. “I knew I was good silver, with a clear ring and a genuine stamp. Surely they must be mistaken; they could not mean me. And yet they did mean me! I was the one they called false; I was no good! ‘I shall have to pass it in the dark!’ said the man who had me, and I was passed in the dark, only to be abused again by daylight. ‘False! No good! We must find a way to get rid of it.’”

And the skilling trembled between people’s fingers whenever it was to be slipped away in secret and passed off as a coin of the country. “What a wretched skilling I am! What use are my silver, my value, my stamp, if they count for nothing? To the world, you are what the world thinks you are! It must be dreadful to have a guilty conscience, to creep along the path of wrongdoing, when I, who am entirely innocent, can feel so miserable merely because I seem guilty! Every time I was brought out, I dreaded the eyes that would look at me. I knew I would be rejected, flung across the table as though I were nothing but lies and deceit.

Once I came to a poor woman, who received me as her day’s wages for all her toil and trouble. But she could not get rid of me at all; no one would take me. I was a real misfortune to her.

‘I shall simply have to cheat someone with it!’ she said. ‘I can’t afford to keep a false skilling. The rich baker shall have it; he can best afford the loss. But it’s wrong of me all the same!’

Now I am even going to burden this woman’s conscience!” sighed the skilling. “Have I really changed so much in my old age? And the woman went to the rich baker, but he knew the coins in circulation far too well. I was not allowed to stay where I had been put; I was flung in the woman’s face. She got no bread for me, and I felt deeply grieved to have been minted only to bring trouble upon others—I, who in my younger days had been so cheerful and confident, so certain of my worth and my genuine stamp. I grew as melancholy as a poor skilling can when nobody wants it. But the woman took me home again and looked at me with real tenderness, gently and kindly. ‘No, I won’t cheat anyone with you!’ she said. ‘I’ll make a hole in you, so that everyone can see you’re a false thing. And yet—now it occurs to me—perhaps you’re a lucky skilling. Yes, I shall believe that! The thought has just come to me. I’ll make a hole in the skilling, thread a cord through it, and hang it round the neck of my neighbour’s little child as a lucky coin!’

And she made a hole in me. It is never pleasant to have a hole punched through you, but when the intention is good, one can bear a great deal! A cord was threaded through me, and I became a sort of medal to be worn. I was hung round the little child’s neck, and the child smiled at me and kissed me, and all night long I rested on its warm, innocent breast.

In the morning the mother took me between her fingers, looked at me, and had her own thoughts about me, as I soon discovered. She brought out a pair of scissors and cut the cord.”

‘A lucky skilling!’ she said. ‘Well, we shall see about that!’ And she put me in something sour until I turned green. Then she filled the hole with putty, gave me a little rub, and went at dusk to the lottery agent to buy a ticket that was to bring her good luck.

How wretched I felt! I was gripped by such anguish that I thought I would snap in two. I knew I would be called false and flung aside, right in front of all the skillings and other coins lying there with inscriptions and faces they could be proud of. But I escaped. There were so many people at the lottery office, and the agent was so busy, that I went jingling into the drawer among the other coins. Whether the ticket won a prize, I do not know; but I do know that the very next day I was recognised as a false skilling, put aside, and sent out to deceive, and keep on deceiving. That is more than one can bear when one has an honest character, and I cannot deny myself that.

For years I passed like this from hand to hand, from house to house, always abused, always unwelcome. No one believed in me, and I believed neither in myself nor in the world. It was a hard time.

Then one day a traveller came along. Naturally, I was foisted upon him, and he was trusting enough to accept me as current coin. But when he came to spend me, I heard those cries again: ‘No good! False!’

‘I took it for a genuine coin!’ said the man, and now he looked at me very closely. Then his whole face lit up with a smile, which was not what faces usually did when they examined me closely. ‘Well, what have we here!’ he said. ‘Why, it’s one of our own country’s coins—a good, honest skilling from home, with a hole punched in it, and they call it false. How very amusing! I shall certainly keep you and take you home with me!’

A thrill of joy ran through me. I had been called a good, honest skilling, and I was going home, where everyone would know me and know that I was good silver and bore a genuine stamp. I could almost have struck sparks for joy, but it is not in my nature to strike sparks; steel can do that, but not silver.

I was wrapped in fine paper so that I would not get mixed up with the other coins and be lost. Only on festive occasions, when fellow countrymen gathered, was I brought out and shown around and spoken of in the highest terms. They said I was interesting. It is rather amusing that one can be interesting without saying a single word!

And then I came home! All my troubles were over; my happiness began. After all, I was good silver, I bore the genuine stamp, and it did me no harm at all that someone had punched a hole in me as though I were false. That does not matter when you are not! One must hold out; in time, everything is recognised for what it is worth. That is my belief!” said the skilling.