The Red Shoes

There was once a little girl who was very pretty and delicate, but in summer she was forced to run about with bare feet, she was so poor, and in winter wear very large wooden shoes, which made her little insteps quite red, and that looked so dangerous!

Once there was a little girl who was very pretty and delicate. But she was so poor that she had to run barefoot in summer. In winter, she had to wear very large wooden shoes. The shoes made the tops of her little feet quite red, and that looked so dangerous!

In the middle of the village lived old Dame Shoemaker; she sat and sewed together, as well as she could, a little pair of shoes out of old red strips of cloth; they were very clumsy, but it was a kind thought. They were meant for the little girl. The little girl was called Karen.

Old Dame Shoemaker lived in the middle of the village. She sat and sewed a little pair of shoes from old strips of red cloth, doing the best she could. The shoes were very clumsy, but it was a kind thought. They were meant for the little girl. The little girl was called Karen.

On the very day her mother was buried, Karen received the red shoes, and wore them for the first time. They were certainly not intended for mourning, but she had no others, and with stockingless feet she followed the poor straw coffin in them.

On the day her mother was buried, Karen received the red shoes and wore them for the first time. The shoes were certainly not meant for mourning, but she had no others. So she followed the poor straw coffin wearing them, with no stockings on her feet.

Suddenly a large old carriage drove up, and a large old lady sat in it: she looked at the little girl, felt compassion for her, and then said to the clergyman:

Suddenly, a large old carriage drove up with a large old lady sitting inside. She looked at the little girl and felt sorry for her. Then she said to the clergyman:

“Here, give me the little girl. I will adopt her!”

“Here, give me the little girl. I will adopt her!”

And Karen believed all this happened on account of the red shoes, but the old lady thought they were horrible, and they were burnt. But Karen herself was cleanly and nicely dressed; she must learn to read and sew; and people said she was a nice little thing, but the looking-glass said: “Thou art more than nice, thou art beautiful!”

Karen believed all this had happened because of the red shoes. But the old lady thought the shoes were horrible, and they were burned. Karen herself was clean and neatly dressed. She had to learn to read and sew. People said she was a nice little girl, but the mirror said: “You are more than nice, you are beautiful!”

Now the queen once travelled through the land, and she had her little daughter with her. And this little daughter was a princess, and people streamed to the castle, and Karen was there also, and the little princess stood in her fine white dress, in a window, and let herself be stared at; she had neither a train nor a golden crown, but splendid red morocco shoes. They were certainly far handsomer than those Dame Shoemaker had made for little Karen. Nothing in the world can be compared with red shoes.

Once, the queen traveled through the land with her little daughter, who was a princess. People streamed to the castle, and Karen was there too. The little princess stood at a window in her fine white dress, letting everyone stare at her. She had neither a train nor a golden crown, but she wore splendid red morocco leather shoes. They were certainly much more beautiful than the ones Dame Shoemaker had made for little Karen. Nothing in the world can compare with red shoes.

Now Karen was old enough to be confirmed; she had new clothes and was to have new shoes also. The rich shoemaker in the city took the measure of her little foot. This took place at his house, in his room; where stood large glass-cases, filled with elegant shoes and brilliant boots. All this looked charming, but the old lady could not see well, and so had no pleasure in them. In the midst of the shoes stood a pair of red ones, just like those the princess had worn. How beautiful they were! The shoemaker said also they had been made for the child of a count, but had not fitted.

Karen was now old enough to be confirmed. She had new clothes and was going to have new shoes too. The rich shoemaker in the city measured her little foot. He did this in a room in his house, where large glass cases stood filled with elegant shoes and shining boots. It all looked charming, but the old lady could not see well enough to enjoy it. Among the shoes was a red pair, just like the ones the princess had worn. How beautiful they were! The shoemaker also said he had made them for a count’s child, but they had not fit.

“That must be patent leather!” said the old lady. “They shine so!”

“That must be patent leather!” said the old lady. “They’re so shiny!”

“Yes, they shine!” said Karen, and they fitted, and were bought, but the old lady knew nothing about their being red, else she would never have allowed Karen to have gone in red shoes to be confirmed. Yet such was the case.

“Yes, they shine!” said Karen. The shoes fit, and they were bought. But the old lady did not know they were red. If she had known, she would never have allowed Karen to wear red shoes for her confirmation. Yet that is what happened.

Everybody looked at her feet; and when she stepped through the chancel door on the church pavement, it seemed to her as if the old figures on the tombs, those portraits of old preachers and preachers' wives, with stiff ruffs, and long black dresses, fixed their eyes on her red shoes. And she thought only of them as the clergyman laid his hand upon her head, and spoke of the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and how she should be now a matured Christian; and the organ pealed so solemnly; the sweet children's voices sang, and the old music-directors sang, but Karen only thought of her red shoes.

Everyone looked at her feet. As she stepped through the chancel door onto the church floor, she looked at the old figures on the tombs. They were portraits of preachers and their wives, dressed in stiff ruffs and long black dresses. It seemed to her that they were staring at her red shoes. She thought only of her shoes as the clergyman laid his hand on her head. He spoke of holy baptism and the covenant with God, and how she would now be a mature Christian. The organ played solemnly, the children sang in sweet voices, and the old music directors sang too. But Karen thought only of her red shoes.

In the afternoon, the old lady heard from everyone that the shoes had been red, and she said that it was very wrong of Karen, that it was not at all becoming, and that in future Karen should only go in black shoes to church, even when she should be older.

That afternoon, everyone told the old lady that the shoes had been red. She said Karen had been very wrong to wear them and that they were not at all appropriate. From then on, Karen must wear only black shoes to church, even when she was older.

The next Sunday there was the sacrament, and Karen looked at the black shoes, looked at the red ones—looked at them again, and put on the red shoes.

The next Sunday, there was Communion. Karen looked at the black shoes, then at the red ones. She looked at them again and put on the red shoes.

The sun shone gloriously; Karen and the old lady walked along the path through the corn; it was rather dusty there.

The sun shone brightly. Karen and the old lady walked along the rather dusty path through the corn.

At the church door stood an old soldier with a crutch, and with a wonderfully long beard, which was more red than white, and he bowed to the ground, and asked the old lady whether he might dust her shoes. And Karen stretched out her little foot.

An old soldier stood at the church door with a crutch. His wonderfully long beard was more red than white. He bowed to the ground and asked the old lady if he could dust her shoes. Karen held out her little foot.

“See, what beautiful dancing shoes!” said the soldier. “Sit firm when you dance”; and he put his hand out towards the soles.

“Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!” said the soldier. “Stay firmly in place when you dance.” And he reached out toward the soles.

And the old lady gave the old soldier alms, and went into the church with Karen.

And the old lady gave the old soldier some money and went into the church with Karen.

And all the people in the church looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the pictures, and as Karen knelt before the altar, and raised the cup to her lips, she only thought of the red shoes, and they seemed to swim in it; and she forgot to sing her psalm, and she forgot to pray, “Our Father in Heaven!”

All the people in the church and all the pictures looked at Karen's red shoes. As Karen knelt before the altar and raised the cup to her lips, she thought only of the red shoes. They seemed to swim in the cup. She forgot to sing her psalm, and she forgot to pray, “Our Father in Heaven!”

Now all the people went out of church, and the old lady got into her carriage. Karen raised her foot to get in after her, when the old soldier said,

Now everyone came out of the church, and the old lady got into her carriage. Karen lifted her foot to follow her in, but then the old soldier said,

“Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!”

“Look at those beautiful dancing shoes!”

And Karen could not help dancing a step or two, and when she began her feet continued to dance; it was just as though the shoes had power over them. She danced round the church corner, she could not leave off; the coachman was obliged to run after and catch hold of her, and he lifted her in the carriage, but her feet continued to dance so that she trod on the old lady dreadfully. At length she took the shoes off, and then her legs had peace.

Karen could not help dancing a step or two. Once she began, her feet kept dancing, as if the shoes had power over them. She danced around the corner of the church and could not stop. The coachman had to run after her and catch her. He lifted her into the carriage, but her feet kept dancing, and she stepped on the old lady terribly. At last, Karen took off the shoes, and her legs were still.

The shoes were placed in a closet at home, but Karen could not avoid looking at them.

The shoes were put in a closet at home, but Karen couldn't stop looking at them.

Now the old lady was sick, and it was said she could not recover. She must be nursed and waited upon, and there was no one whose duty it was so much as Karen's. But there was a great ball in the city, to which Karen was invited. She looked at the old lady, who could not recover, she looked at the red shoes, and she thought there could be no sin in it; she put on the red shoes, she might do that also, she thought. But then she went to the ball and began to dance.

Now the old lady was sick, and people said she could not recover. She needed nursing and care, and no one had more of a duty to care for her than Karen. But there was a grand ball in the city, and Karen was invited. She looked at the old lady, who could not recover. Then she looked at the red shoes and thought there could be no sin in wearing them. She put on the red shoes, thinking she could do that too. But then she went to the ball and began to dance.

When she wanted to dance to the right, the shoes would dance to the left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced back again, down the steps, into the street, and out of the city gate. She danced, and was forced to dance straight out into the gloomy wood.

When she wanted to dance to the right, the shoes danced to the left. When she wanted to dance across the room, the shoes danced back again. They carried her down the steps, into the street, and out through the city gate. She danced on, forced to go straight into the gloomy woods.

Then it was suddenly light up among the trees, and she fancied it must be the moon, for there was a face; but it was the old soldier with the red beard; he sat there, nodded his head, and said, “Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!”

Suddenly, a light appeared among the trees. She thought it must be the moon because she saw a face. But it was the old soldier with the red beard. He sat there, nodded his head, and said, “Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!”

Then she was terrified, and wanted to fling off the red shoes, but they clung fast; and she pulled down her stockings, but the shoes seemed to have grown to her feet. And she danced, and must dance, over fields and meadows, in rain and sunshine, by night and day; but at night it was the most fearful.

Then she was terrified and tried to fling off the red shoes, but they held tight. She pulled down her stockings, but the shoes seemed to have grown onto her feet. She danced and had to keep dancing over fields and meadows, in rain and sunshine, night and day. But it was most frightening at night.

She danced over the churchyard, but the dead did not dance—they had something better to do than to dance. She wished to seat herself on a poor man's grave, where the bitter tansy grew; but for her there was neither peace nor rest; and when she danced towards the open church door, she saw an angel standing there. He wore long, white garments; he had wings which reached from his shoulders to the earth; his countenance was severe and grave; and in his hand he held a sword, broad and glittering.

She danced through the churchyard, but the dead did not dance. They had something better to do than dance. She wanted to sit on a poor man's grave, where bitter tansy grew, but she could find no peace or rest. When she danced toward the open church door, she saw an angel standing there. He wore long white robes, and his wings stretched from his shoulders to the ground. His face was stern and serious. In his hand he held a broad, glittering sword.

“Dance shalt thou!” said he. “Dance in thy red shoes till thou art pale and cold! Till thy skin shrivels up and thou art a skeleton! Dance shalt thou from door to door, and where proud, vain children dwell, thou shalt knock, that they may hear thee and tremble! Dance shalt thou—!”

“You shall dance!” he said. “Dance in your red shoes until you are pale and cold! Dance until your skin shrivels and you are a skeleton! You shall dance from door to door. Wherever proud, vain children live, you shall knock so they may hear you and tremble! You shall dance!”

“Mercy!” cried Karen. But she did not hear the angel's reply, for the shoes carried her through the gate into the fields, across roads and bridges, and she must keep ever dancing.

“Mercy!” cried Karen. But she did not hear the angel's reply because the shoes carried her through the gate into the fields. They carried her across roads and bridges, and she had to keep dancing.

One morning she danced past a door which she well knew. Within sounded a psalm; a coffin, decked with flowers, was borne forth. Then she knew that the old lady was dead, and felt that she was abandoned by all, and condemned by the angel of God.

One morning she danced past a door she knew well. She heard a psalm inside, and a coffin covered with flowers was carried out. Then she knew that the old lady was dead. She felt abandoned by everyone and condemned by the angel of God.

She danced, and she was forced to dance through the gloomy night. The shoes carried her over stack and stone; she was torn till she bled; she danced over the heath till she came to a little house. Here, she knew, dwelt the executioner; and she tapped with her fingers at the window, and said, “Come out! Come out! I cannot come in, for I am forced to dance!”

She danced, forced to keep dancing through the gloomy night. The shoes carried her over stacks and stones. She was torn until she bled. She danced across the heath until she came to a little house. She knew the executioner lived there. She tapped on the window with her fingers and said, “Come out! Come out! I cannot come in, for I am forced to dance!”

And the executioner said, “Thou dost not know who I am, I fancy? I strike bad people's heads off; and I hear that my axe rings!”

And the executioner said, “I suppose you don't know who I am? I chop off bad people's heads, and I hear my axe ringing!”

“Don't strike my head off!” said Karen. “Then I can't repent of my sins! But strike off my feet in the red shoes!”

“Don't cut off my head!” said Karen. “Then I can't repent of my sins! But cut off my feet in the red shoes!”

And then she confessed her entire sin, and the executioner struck off her feet with the red shoes, but the shoes danced away with the little feet across the field into the deep wood.

Then she confessed all her sins, and the executioner cut off her feet with the red shoes still on them. But the shoes danced away with her little feet, across the field and into the deep woods.

And he carved out little wooden feet for her, and crutches, taught her the psalm criminals always sing; and she kissed the hand which had wielded the axe, and went over the heath.

He carved little wooden feet and crutches for her. He taught her the psalm that criminals always sing. She kissed the hand that had held the axe and walked across the heath.

“Now I have suffered enough for the red shoes!” said she. “Now I will go into the church that people may see me!” And she hastened towards the church door: but when she was near it, the red shoes danced before her, and she was terrified, and turned round. The whole week she was unhappy, and wept many bitter tears; but when Sunday returned, she said, “Well, now I have suffered and struggled enough! I really believe I am as good as many a one who sits in the church, and holds her head so high!”

“Now I have suffered enough for the red shoes!” she said. “Now I will go into the church so people can see me!” She hurried toward the church door. But when she came near it, the red shoes danced in front of her. She was terrified and turned back. She was unhappy all week and wept many bitter tears. But when Sunday came again, she said, “Well, now I have suffered and struggled enough! I really believe I am as good as many a woman who sits in church and holds her head so high!”

And away she went boldly; but she had not got farther than the churchyard gate before she saw the red shoes dancing before her; and she was frightened, and turned back, and repented of her sin from her heart.

And she set off boldly. But she had only reached the churchyard gate when she saw the red shoes dancing in front of her. Frightened, she turned back and sincerely repented of her sin.

And she went to the parsonage, and begged that they would take her into service; she would be very industrious, she said, and would do everything she could; she did not care about the wages, only she wished to have a home, and be with good people. And the clergyman's wife was sorry for her and took her into service; and she was industrious and thoughtful. She sat still and listened when the clergyman read the Bible in the evenings. All the children thought a great deal of her; but when they spoke of dress, and grandeur, and beauty, she shook her head.

She went to the parsonage and begged them to take her on as a servant. She said she would work very hard and do everything she could. She did not care about the wages. She only wanted a home and to be with good people. The clergyman's wife felt sorry for her and took her into service. She was hardworking and thoughtful. In the evenings, she sat quietly and listened when the clergyman read the Bible. All the children thought highly of her. But when they spoke of clothes, splendor, and beauty, she shook her head.

The following Sunday, when the family was going to church, they asked her whether she would not go with them; but she glanced sorrowfully, with tears in her eyes, at her crutches. The family went to hear the word of God; but she went alone into her little chamber; there was only room for a bed and chair to stand in it; and here she sat down with her Prayer-Book; and whilst she read with a pious mind, the wind bore the strains of the organ towards her, and she raised her tearful countenance, and said, “O God, help me!”

The following Sunday, as the family was going to church, they asked if she would join them. But she looked sadly at her crutches, with tears in her eyes. The family went to hear the word of God, but she went alone to her little room. There was only enough space for a bed and a chair. She sat down with her prayer book and read it devoutly. As she read, the wind carried the sound of the organ to her. She lifted her tearful face and said, “O God, help me!”

And the sun shone so clearly, and straight before her stood the angel of God in white garments, the same she had seen that night at the church door; but he no longer carried the sharp sword, but in its stead a splendid green spray, full of roses. And he touched the ceiling with the spray, and the ceiling rose so high, and where he had touched it there gleamed a golden star. And he touched the walls, and they widened out, and she saw the organ which was playing; she saw the old pictures of the preachers and the preachers' wives. The congregation sat in cushioned seats, and sang out of their Prayer-Books. For the church itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow chamber, or else she had come into the church. She sat in the pew with the clergyman's family, and when they had ended the psalm and looked up, they nodded and said, “It is right that thou art come!”

The sun shone brightly, and the angel of God stood right in front of her, dressed in white. He was the same angel she had seen that night at the church door. But he no longer carried the sharp sword. Instead, he held a beautiful green branch covered in roses. He touched the ceiling with the branch, and the ceiling rose high above her. A golden star shone where he had touched it. He touched the walls, and they spread outward. She saw the organ as it played. She saw the old pictures of the preachers and their wives. The congregation sat in cushioned seats and sang from their prayer books. For the church itself had come to the poor girl in her small room, or else she had come into the church. She sat in the pew with the clergyman's family. When they had finished the psalm and looked up, they nodded and said, “It is right that you have come!”

“It was through mercy!” she said.

“It was because of mercy!” she said.

And the organ pealed, and the children's voices in the choir sounded so sweet and soft! The clear sunshine streamed so warmly through the window into the pew where Karen sat! Her heart was so full of sunshine, peace, and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunshine to God, and there no one asked after the RED SHOES.

The organ rang out, and the children in the choir sang so sweetly and softly! Bright sunshine streamed warmly through the window into the pew where Karen sat. Her heart was so full of sunshine, peace, and joy that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunshine to God, and there no one asked about the RED SHOES.