Now, there was an old manor-house, where they no longer ate snails,
they were quite extinct; but the burdocks were not extinct, they grew
and grew all over the walks and all the beds; they could not get the
mastery over them--it was a whole forest of burdocks. Here and there
stood an apple and a plumb-tree, or else one never would have thought
that it was a garden; all was burdocks, and there lived the two last
venerable old snails.
They themselves knew not how old they were, but they could remember
very well that there had been many more; that they were of a family
from foreign lands, and that for them and theirs the whole forest was
planted. They had never been outside it, but they knew that there was
still something more in the world, which was called the manor-house,
and that there they were boiled, and then they became black, and were
then placed on a silver dish; but what happened further they knew not;
or, in fact, what it was to be boiled, and to lie on a silver dish,
they could not possibly imagine; but it was said to be delightful, and
particularly genteel. Neither the chafers, the toads, nor the
earth-worms, whom they asked about it could give them any
information,--none of them had been boiled or laid on a silver dish.
The old white snails were the first persons of distinction in the
world, that they knew; the forest was planted for their sake, and the
manor-house was there that they might be boiled and laid on a silver
dish.
Now they lived a very lonely and happy life; and as they had no
children themselves, they had adopted a little common snail, which
they brought up as their own; but the little one would not grow, for
he was of a common family; but the old ones, especially Dame Mother
Snail, thought they could observe how he increased in size, and she
begged father, if he could not see it, that he would at least feel the
little snail's shell; and then he felt it, and found the good dame was
right.
One day there was a heavy storm of rain.
"Hear how it beats like a drum on the dock leaves!" said Father Snail.
"There are also rain-drops!" said Mother Snail; "and now the rain
pours right down the stalk! You will see that it will be wet here! I
am very happy to think that we have our good house, and the little one
has his also! There is more done for us than for all other creatures,
sure enough; but can you not see that we are folks of quality in the
world? We are provided with a house from our birth, and the burdock
forest is planted for our sakes! I should like to know how far it
extends, and what there is outside!"
"There is nothing at all," said Father Snail. "No place can be better
than ours, and I have nothing to wish for!"
"Yes," said the dame. "I would willingly go to the manor-house, be
boiled, and laid on a silver dish; all our forefathers have been
treated so; there is something extraordinary in it, you may be sure!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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