When he had finished he wiped his moustache and said: ‘I can’t take the ruby away from you, because that would be stealing. But couldn’t you exchange it for, let’s say, two diamond mountains and a valleyful of mixed precious stones?’
‘No!’ said Thingumy and Bob.
‘And you can’t give it to me?’ asked the Hobgoblin.
‘N-no…’ they repeated.
The Hobgoblin sighed, and then he sat for a while thinking and looking very sad. At last he said:
‘Well, go on with your party, and I’ll cheer myself up by working a little magic for you. Everyone shall have a piece of magic for himself. Now you can all have a wish – the Moomin family first!’
Moominmamma hesitated a bit. ‘Should it be something you can see?’ she asked, ‘or an idea? If you know what I mean, Mr Hobgoblin?’
‘Oh, yes!’ said the Hobgoblin. ‘Things are easier of course, but it will work with an idea too.’
‘Then I want to wish that Moomintroll will stop missing Snufkin,’ said Moominmamma.
‘Oh dear!’ said Moomintroll going pink, ‘I didn’t know it was so obvious!’
But the Hobgoblin waved his cloak once, and immediately the sadness flew out of Moomintroll’s heart. His longing just became expectancy, and that felt much better.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ he cried. ‘Dear Mr Hobgoblin, make the whole table, with everything on it, fly away to Snufkin, wherever he is just now!’
At the same moment the table rose into the air and headed south with pancakes, jam, fruit and flowers, punch and sweets, and also the Muskrat’s book which he had left on the corner.
‘Hi!’ said the Muskrat. ‘Now I should like my book spirited back again please.’
‘Right!’ said the Hobgoblin. ‘Here you are, sir!’
‘“On the Usefulness of Everything”,’ read the Muskrat. ‘But this is the wrong book. The one I had was about the Uselessness of Everything.’
But the Hobgoblin only laughed.
‘Surely it’s my turn now,’ said Moominpappa, ‘but it’s very difficult to choose! I’ve thought of masses of things, but nothing is absolutely right. A greenhouse is more fun to make yourself; a dinghy, too. Besides I’ve got nearly everything.’
‘Perhaps you don’t need a wish at all,’ said Sniff. ‘Couldn’t I have yours?’
‘Oh, well…’ said Moominpappa, ‘I’m not sure about that…’
‘You must hurry up, dear,’ urged Moominmamma. ‘What about wishing for a pair of really nice bookbindings for your Memoirs?’
‘Oh! That is a good idea!’ Moominpappa exclaimed happily, and everybody screamed with delight when the Hobgoblin handed over two red
Morocco-leather and gold bindings set with pearls.
‘Me now!’ squeaked Sniff. ‘A boat of my very own, please! A boat like a shell, with purple sails and a jacaranda mast and rowlocks made of emeralds!’
‘That was quite a wish,’ said the Hobgoblin, kindly, and waved his cloak.
They all held their breath, but the boat didn’t appear.
‘Didn’t it work?’ asked Sniff in disappointment. ‘Indeed it did,’ said the Hobgoblin, ‘but of course I put it down on the beach. You’ll find it there in the morning.’
‘With rowlocks made of emeralds?’ asked Sniff. ‘Certainly. Four of them and one in reserve,’ said the Hobgoblin. ‘Next one, please!’
‘Hm,’ said the Hemulen, ‘to tell you the truth there was a botanizing spade that I borrowed from the Snork that got broken. So I simply must have a new one.’
And he curtsied* in a well-brought-up manner when the Hobgoblin produced the new spade.
‘Don’t you get tired of working magic?’ asked the Snork Maiden.
‘Not with these easy things,’ answered the Hobgoblin. ‘And what will you have, my dear young lady?’
‘It’s really very difficult,’ said the Snork Maiden. ‘May I whisper?’
When she had whispered, the Hobgoblin looked a little surprised and asked: ‘Are you sure you want that to happen?’
‘Yes! Sure!’ breathed the Snork Maiden.
‘Well – all right, then!’ said the Hobgoblin. ‘Here we go!’
The next moment a cry of surprise went up from the crowd. The Snork Maiden was unrecognizable.
‘What have you done to yourself?’ said Moomintroll, frantically.
‘I wished for eyes like the Wooden Queen,’ said the Snork Maiden. ‘You thought she was beautiful, didn’t you?’
‘Yes – b-but…’ said Moomintroll, unhappily.
‘Don’t you think my new eyes are beautiful?’ said the Snork Maiden, and started to cry.
‘Well, well,’ said the Hobgoblin, ‘if they aren’t right then your brother can wish for the old eyes back again, can’t he?’
‘Yes, but I’d thought of something quite different,’ protested the Snork. ‘If she makes stupid wishes, it really isn’t my fault!’
‘What had you thought of?’ asked the Hobgoblin.
‘A machine for finding things out,’ said the Snork, ‘a machine that tells you whether things are right or wrong, good or bad.’
‘That’s too difficult,’ said the Hobgoblin, shaking his head, ‘I can’t manage that.’
‘Well, in that case I should like a typewriter,’ said the Snork, sulkily. ‘My sister can see just as well with her new eyes!’
‘Yes, but she doesn’t look so nice,’ said the Hobgoblin.
‘Dearest brother,’ cried the Snork Maiden, who had got hold of a mirror. ‘Please wish my little old eyes back again! I look so awful!’
‘Oh, all right!’ said the Snork at last. ‘You shall have them for the sake of the family. But I hope you’re a little less vain in future.’
The Snork Maiden looked in the mirror again and cried with delight. Her funny little eyes were back in their place again, but her eyelashes had actually become a little longer. Beaming all over her face she hugged her brother and said: ‘Sweetie-pie! Honey-pot! You shall have a typewriter for a Christmas present from me!’
‘Don’t!’ said the Snork, who was very embarrassed. ‘One shouldn’t kiss when people are looking. No, I couldn’t bear to see you in that awful state – that’s all.’
‘Ah, ha! Now only Thingumy and Bob are left from the house-party!’ said the Hobgoblin. ‘You can have a joint wish, because I can’t tell the difference between you.’
‘Aren’t you going to wake a mish?’ asked Bob.
‘I can’t,’ replied the Hobgoblin sadly ‘I can only give other people wishes, and change myself into different things.’
Thingumy and Bob stared at him. Then they put their heads together and whispered for a long time.
Then Bob said solemnly, ‘We’ve decided to wake a mish for you because you are nice. We want a booby as rootiful as ours.’
Everybody had seen the Hobgoblin laugh, but nobody believed he could smile. He was so happy that you could see it all over him – from his hat to his boots! Without a word he waved his cloak over the grass – and behold! Once more the garden was filled with a pink light and there on the grass before them lay a twin to the King’s Ruby – the Queen’s Ruby.
‘Now you’re mot niserable any more?’ said Bob.
‘I should say not,’ said the Hobgoblin, tenderly lifting up the shining jewel in his cloak. ‘And now every single one of the animals shall wish for what he wants! I shall grant all your wishes before morning, because I have to be home before the sun rises!’
And now they all had their turn.
In front of the Hobgoblin there circled a long queue of chirping, laughing, humming forest creatures, who all wanted to have their wishes granted. Those who wished stupidly were allowed another chance, because the Hobgoblin was in a very good temper. The dancing started again, and more trolleyfuls of pancakes were wheeled under the trees. The Hemulen let off more and more fireworks, and Moominpappa carried out his Memoirs in their smart new binding and read aloud about his youth.
Never had
there been such a celebration in the Valley of the Moomins.
Oh, what a wonderful feeling when you have eaten up everything, drunk everything, talked of everything and danced your feet off, to go home in the quiet hour before the dawn to sleep!
And now the Hobgoblin flies to the end of the world and the Mother Mouse creeps into her nest, and one is as happy as the other.
But perhaps the happiest of all is Moomintroll who goes home through the garden with his mother, just as the moon is fading in the dawn, and the trees rustling in the morning breeze which comes up from the sea.
It is autumn in Moomin Valley, for how else can spring come back again?
*The Hemulen always wore a dress that he had inherited from his aunt. I believe all Hemulens wear dresses. It seems strange, but there you are. “Author’s note.
*In case you don’t know, an Ant-lion is a crafty insect who digs himself down into the sand leaving a small round hole above him. Into this hole unsuspecting little animals fall and then get caught by the Ant-lion, who pops up from the bottom of the hole and devours them.
You can read all about it in the Encyclopedia if you don’t believe me. “Translator’s note.
*Snorks often turn pale when emotionally upset. “Author’s note.
*‘Birch-bark is the best thing for starting a fire, and you must be prepared for any emergency on an excursion. “Author’s note.
*If you want to find out what the Muskrat’s false teeth were changed into you can ask your mamma. She is sure to know. “Author’s note.
*Ask your mother how to make them: she will know. “Author’s note.
*The Hemulen always curtsies because it looks so silly to bow in a dress. “Author’s note.
Tove Jansson, Finn Family Moomintroll
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