The Steadfast Tin Soldier [AUDIOBOOK] read by Sir Roger Moore - GivingTales

Once upon a time, there were 25 tin soldiers painted with bright uniforms of red and blue. They were all brothers, cast from the same old tin spoon. Each soldier looked exactly alike, except for one. He was the last to be made, and the tin had run out, leaving him with only one leg. But he stood just as steadfast as his brothers. The soldiers belonged to a small boy. He had dozens of toys, from balls and clouds to a magnificent mottled castle. The castle had high walls and turrets, and windows to peep inside. White wax swans swam outside on a lake of mirror, surrounded by miniature trees. But most beautiful of all was the tiny dancer who stood at the castle door. She wore a necklace hung with a glittering sequin. Because she stood in pirouette on one foot, the tin soldier thought she must just have one leg, like him. She is so lovely, he sighed, but she is too grand to be the wife of a simple soldier like me. So the little tin soldier hid behind a snuff box and admired the dancer from a distance. No matter how long she stood on one leg in her pirouette, she never lost her balance. At night, the boy put all his toys away. Twenty-four of the soldiers went back into their box. But the little tin soldier, hiding behind the snuff box, was left outside. As soon as everyone in the house was asleep, the toys got up and began to play. They danced and fought battles and held picnics. The tin soldiers wanted to join in, but were stuck in their box. They rattled the lid, but it wouldn't come off. The only two who stayed still were the one-legged tin soldier and the little dancer. She remained in her eternal pirouette, balanced on one toe, and he stood steadfast, gazing at her with love. But then the clock struck twelve, there was a rap and a tap, and suddenly the lid flew off the snuff box. Out sprang a mischievous troll. He was a nasty creature with wild hair and an evil eye, and he wanted the dancer for himself. Take your eyes off her, he told the soldier. The soldier pretended not to hear, but the wicked troll threatened him. Just you wait until tomorrow. The next morning, the boy found the little toy soldier behind the snuff box and put him on the windowsill. Suddenly there was an evil cackle from the snuff box, and a strange gust of wind blew the window open and knocked the tin soldier down into the street. The boy and his nursemaid ran down to find him. They looked all around, and although they nearly stepped on him, they didn't spot him. The soldier was too proud to shout out, thinking it was wrong to do so in uniform. So he was left in the street until it started to rain heavily. The water trickled over the cobblestones into puddles and streams surrounding the little soldier. When the rain cleared, two ragged urchins came by. Look, here's a tin soldier, he's going for a sail, they said. They made a boat out of newspaper, put him in it, and set it off down the gutter. The rushing water carried the soldier along at a fearful speed, but he stood there bravely on his single leg. Suddenly the water whirled the boat around and washed it into a dark drain. Where am I going, the little soldier wondered. This must be the evil troll's revenge. Oh, if only I had the beautiful dancer with me. I wouldn't mind being wet and cold and seasick. Suddenly a huge water rat ran out and bared its yellow fangs. Where's your passport, the rat demanded, hand it over. But the tin soldier had no passport and refused to answer. Stop him, he hasn't got a passport, shouted the angry rat. But the boat sailed on. Soon the little soldier glimpsed daylight ahead, but as it grew brighter he heard a where the gutter poured into the great canal. The current grew stronger, there was no way back. The little soldier stood bravely as he was rushed over the edge in a huge waterfall. The boat plunged into the whirlpool below. It spun around once, twice, three times, filling up with water. The tin soldier thought of the beautiful dancer, whom he would never see again, and an old song rang in his ears. Farewell, farewell, oh warrior brave, nobody can from death thee save. The paper boat began to break apart. The soldier sank through and was swallowed whole by a huge fish. Oh, it was dark and dank inside the fish's belly, but the soldier clutched his musket firmly. Even as the fish flopped and floundered around. Finally the fish was still. A fisherman had caught it and delivered it to a kitchen table. A cook sliced it open and the soldier saw daylight again. It's the tin soldier, the cook said. She went upstairs to the nursery and gave him to the young boy. The tin soldier was back home again and everything was just as it was. There was the boy, there were all the toys, and there was the magnificent castle. Best of all, the love of his life. The little dancer still stood there, steadfast in her pirouette. He would have wept tears of joy, but soldiers never cry. The tin soldier and the dancer gazed at one another, but neither of them moved. Then suddenly the boy picked up the soldier and threw him into the fire. He had no reason to hurt the poor soldier. The evil troll must have cast a spell on him. The tin soldier stood there in the fierce heat, but he could not tell if it was the fire or the love that burned him. A long journey had worn his painted uniform away, and now he was brightly dressed again in a livery of flames. He looked over at the dancer and she looked at him, and still he stood steadfast, shouldering his musket. Then a gust of wind struck the dancer. She flew like a sylph across the room and into the fireplace next to the melting soldier. For a moment she flared up into a pale flame and then was gone. The next day, when the maid cleared the ashes, she found the soldier's remains. He had melted into the shape of a little tin heart, but nothing was left of the dancer except her silver spangle, and it was burned as black as coal.