The Protégé

ACTUALLY, MARIE DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE the Christmas table, for she had discovered something that no one else had as yet noticed. You see, the review of Fritz’s Hussars, who had paraded closely past the tree, had revealed an excellent little man, who stood there, quiet and modest, as if calmly awaiting his turn. Granted, there was a lot to object to in his stature; for aside from the fact that his somewhat lengthy and powerful upper body didn’t quite fit in with the tiny, skinny legs, his head likewise seemed much too big.

To a great extent, amends were made by his attractive clothes, which suggested a man of taste and breeding. After all, he sported a very lovely, shiny, violet dolman with countless white braids and buttons. He also wore the loveliest trousers and finest ankle boots that had ever graced the feet of a student, much less an officer. These boots were as snug on the delicate little legs as if they were a perfect fit. Now it was funny that he had donned a miner’s cap and that he had accompanied his garb in back with a slim, clumsy cape that looked like wood.

Meanwhile, Marie felt that Godfather Drosselmeier had also slung an awful morning coat around his shoulders and put on a dreadful cap—but he was still a very dear godfather. Marie had likewise mused that no matter how delicate the little man, the godfather would never be as appealing as he. The little girl had instantly liked the nice man, and the more she looked at him, the more she realized what a gentle and kindly face he had. The light green, bulging eyes promised nothing but friendship and benevolence. It was good for the man to place a well-groomed, white-cotton beard on his chin, since you could perceive the sweet smile of the deep red lips all the more clearly.

“Ah!” Marie finally exclaimed. “Ah! Dear Father! Who owns that darling little man over on the tree there?”

“He,” the father answered. “He, dear child, should work hard for all of us. He should crack the hard nuts for us nicely. And he should belong to Luise as much as he belongs to you and to Fritz.”

The father then removed him cautiously from the table and, raising the wooden cape aloft, the manikin opened his mouth wide, wide, and showed two rows of very sharp, very tiny white teeth. When told to do so, Marie inserted a nut and—Crack! Crack!—he chewed up the nut, so that the shell dropped away, and the sweet kernel itself ended up in Marie’s hand.

By now, everyone, including Marie, had to know that the dainty little man was an offspring of the dynasty of Nutcrackers and was practicing his profession.

She shouted for joy, but then her father spoke:

“Since, dear Marie, you love Friend Nutcracker so much, you must shield and shelter him especially, even despite the fact that, as I have said, Luise and Fritz have as much right to use him as you!”

Marie promptly took Nutcracker in her arms and had him crack nuts, though she picked the smallest ones. That way the manikin wouldn’t have to open his mouth very wide, which basically didn’t look so good. Luise joined Marie, and Friend Nutcracker also had to perform his duties for Luise—which he didn’t seem to mind doing, since he smiled very amiably all the time.

Fritz, meanwhile, had grown tired from all the riding and drilling, and when he heard the pleasurable cracking of nuts, he sprang over to his sisters and roared with laughter at the quaint manikin. Now that Fritz also wanted to eat nuts, the little man passed from hand to hand, unable to halt his snapping open and shut. Fritz kept shoving in the biggest and hardest nuts. All at once, they heard a double crack. Then three little teeth fell out of Nutcracker’s mouth, and his whole lower jaw turned loose and wobbly.

“Oh, my poor, dear Nutcracker,” Marie exclaimed, whisking him out of Fritz’s hands.

“He’s a stupid, simpleminded guy!” said Fritz. “He wants to be a Nutcracker, but he has no decent teeth. He probably doesn’t understand his own work. Hand him over, Marie! He has to chew up nuts for me, even if he loses his remaining teeth—even his entire jaw in the bargain. Who cares about that good-for-nothing?!”

“No! No!” Marie wept. “You’re not going to get him—my dear Nutcracker! Just look at the way he watches me so sorrowfully and shows me his little, injured mouth! But you’re a coldhearted person, Fritz—you beat your horses and you even let a soldier be shot dead!”

“That’s the way it has to be, you just don’t understand,” cried Fritz. “Anyway, Nutcracker belongs to me as much as he belongs to you! Hand him over!!”

Marie began sobbing hard and she quickly wrapped up the sick Nutcracker in her tiny handkerchief. The parents came over with Godfather Drosselmeier, who, to Marie’s great regret, sided with Fritz.

However, her father said: “I deliberately placed Nutcracker under Marie’s protection. And now that I see she needs him, she has full power over Nutcracker with no interference from anyone. Incidentally, I’m very surprised that Fritz demands further services from somebody who has been injured in service. After all, as a good military man, he should know that wounded soldiers never line up in rank and file.”

Fritz was very ashamed and, without concerning himself any further about nuts and about Nutcracker, he stole over to the other side of the table. There, after setting the appropriate outposts, the Hussars had gone to their night quarters.

As for Marie, she hunted down Nutcracker’s little lost teeth. Around his wounded chin, she had wrapped a lovely white ribbon, which she had detached from her frock and bound up. The poor little man had looked very pale and frightened, and so Marie had wrapped him more gingerly than before in her cloth. Cradling him in her arms like a baby, she looked at the lovely pictures in the new picture book, which lay out today among all the other gifts.

Contrary to her usual behavior, Marie got quite angry when Godfather Drosselmeier kept laughing and asking how she managed to remain so lovely despite that thoroughly hideous manikin. Now she recalled the bizarre comparison she had drawn with Drosselmeier at first sight, and she spoke very earnestly:

“Who knows, dear Godfather, if you were spruced up like my dear Nutcracker, and if you had on such lovely, shiny ankle boots, who knows if you wouldn’t be as beautiful as he?”

Marie couldn’t tell why her parents laughed so loudly and why Supreme Court Counselor developed a red nose and didn’t laugh as clearly as before. There must have been a special reason.