II
We children always called our mother's aunt "Aunty"; we had no other name for her.
She gave us jam and sweets, although they were very injurious to our teeth; but the dear children were her weakness, as she used to say. It was a shame to deny them a few sweets, when they were so fond of them.
And that's why we loved aunty so much.
She was an old maid, and as far back as I can remember she was always old. She seemed always to be the same age.
In earlier years she had suffered a great deal from toothache, and was always talking about it; and so it happened that her friend, Mr. Rasmussen, the brewer, called her Aunty Toothache, just to show his wit.
He had left off brewing some years before, and was now living upon the interest of his money, and used to come and visit aunty. He was older than she, and had no teeth at all—only some black stumps.
When a child he had eaten too much sugar, he told us children, and that's how he came to look as he did.
Aunty could surely never have eaten sugar when she was young, for she had the most beautiful teeth.
She took great care of them, and she did not sleep in them at night—so Rasmussen the brewer said. The children knew that this was said in malice, but aunty declared he did not mean anything by it.
One morning, after breakfast, she told us of a terrible dream she had had in the night, and that one of her teeth had fallen out.
"That means," she said, "that I shall lose a true friend!"
"Was it a false tooth?" asked the brewer with a smile; "if so, it can only mean that you will lose a false friend!"
"You are a rude old man!" said aunty, angrier than I have ever seen her before or since.
Afterward she told us that her old friend had only been teasing her; he was the noblest being on earth, and when he died he would become one of God's angels in heaven.
I thought a good deal of this transformation, and wondered whether I should be able to recognize him in this new character.
When aunty and he were young people, he had proposed to her. She had taken too long to think it over, and had settled down all by herself and become an old maid, but always remained his true friend.
And then Rasmussen died.
He was conveyed to his grave in the most expensive hearse, and was followed by a great number of people, many with orders and in uniform.
Aunty stood dressed in mourning by the window, together with all of us children, except our little brother whom the stork had brought a week ago.
