安徒生童话故事：钱猪The Money-Box
钱猪是什么呢？下面是小编整理的相关的一篇安徒生童话故事：钱猪The Money-Box，中英文版本的都有，欢迎大家阅读！希望大家喜欢。
婴儿室里有许多许多玩具;橱柜顶上有一个扑满，它的形状像猪，是泥烧的。它的背上自然还有一条狭口。这狭口后来又用刀子挖大了一点，好使整个银元也可以塞进去。的确，除了许多银毫以外，里面也有两块银元。
钱猪装得非常满，连摇也摇不响——这的确要算是一只钱猪所能达到的最高峰了。他现在高高地站在橱柜上，瞧不起房里一切其他的东西。他知道得很清楚，他肚皮里所装的钱可以买到这所有的玩具。这就是我们所谓的“心中有数”。
别的玩具也想到了这一点，虽然它们不讲出来——因为还有许多其他的事情要讲。桌子的抽屉是半开着的;这里面有一个很大的玩具。她略微有点儿旧，脖子也修理过一次。她朝外边望了一眼，说：“我们现在来扮演人好吗?因为这究竟是值得一做的事情呀！”
这时大家骚动了一下，甚至墙上挂着的那些画也掉过身来，表示它们也有反对的一面;不过这并不是说明它们在抗议。
现在是半夜了。月亮从窗子外面照进来，送来不花钱的光。游戏就要开始了。所有的玩具，甚至属于比较粗糙的'玩具一类的学步车，都被邀请了。
“每个人都有自己的优点，”学步车说。“我们不能全都是贵族。正如俗话所说的，总要有人做事才成！”
只有钱猪接到了一张手写的请帖，因为他的地位很高，大家都相信他不会接受口头的邀请。的确，他并没有回答说他来不来，而事实上他没有来。如果要他参加的话，他得在自己家里欣赏。大家可以照他的意思办，结果他们也就照办了。
那个小玩偶舞台布置得恰恰可以使他一眼就能看到台上的扮演。大家想先演一出喜剧，然后再吃茶和做知识练习。他们立刻就开始了。摇木马谈到训练和纯血统问题，学步车谈到铁路和蒸汽的力量。这些事情都是他们的本行，所以他们都能谈谈。座钟谈起政治：“滴答——滴答”。它知道它敲的是什么时候，不过，有人说他走的并不准确。竹手杖直挺挺地站着，骄傲得不可一世，因为它上面包了银头，下面箍了铜环，上上下下都包了东西。沙发上躺着两个绣花垫子，很好看，但是糊涂。现在戏可以开始了。
大家坐着看戏。事先大家都说好了，观众应该根据自己喜欢的程度喝彩、鼓掌和跺脚。不过马鞭说他从来不为老人鼓掌，他只为还没有结婚的年轻人鼓掌。
“我对大家都鼓掌，”爆竹说。
“一个人应该有一个立场！”痰盂说。这是当戏正在演的时候他们心中所有的想法。
这出戏没有什么价值，但是演得很好。所有的人物都把它们涂了颜色的一面掉向观众，因为他们只能把正面拿出来看，而不能把反面拿出来看。大家都演得非常好，都跑到舞台前面来，因为拉着它们的线很长，不过这样人们就可以把他们看得更清楚。
那个补了一次的玩偶是那么兴奋，弄得她的补丁都松开了。钱猪也看得兴奋起来，他决心要为演员中的某一位做点事情：他要在遗嘱上写下，到了适当的时候，他要这位演员跟他一起葬在公墓里。这才是真正的愉快，因此大家就放弃吃茶，继续做知识练习。这就是他们所谓的扮演人类了。这里面并没有什么恶意，因为他们只不过是扮演罢了，每件东西只想着自己，和猜想钱猪的心事;而这钱猪想得最远，因为他想到了写遗嘱和入葬的事情。这事会在什么时候发生，他总是比别人料想得早。
啪！他从橱柜上掉下来了——落到地上，跌成了碎片。小钱毫跳着，舞着，那些顶小的打着转，那些大的打着转滚开了，特别是那块大银元——他居然想跑到广大的世界里去。他真的跑到广大的世界里去了，其他的也都是一样。钱猪的碎片则被扫进垃圾箱里去了。不过，在第二天，碗柜上又出现了一个泥烧的新钱猪。它肚皮里还没有装进钱，因此它也摇不出响声来;在这一点上说来，它跟别的东西完全没有什么分别。不过这只是一个开始而已——与这开始同时，我们作一个结尾。
钱猪英文版：
The Money-Box
IN a nursery where a number of toys lay scattered about, a money-box stood on the top of a very high wardrobe. It was made of clay in the shape of a pig, and had been bought of the potter. In the back of the pig was a slit, and this slit had been enlarged with a knife, so that dollars, or crown pieces, might slip through; and, indeed there were two in the box, besides a number of pence. The money-pig was stuffed so full that it could no longer rattle, which is the highest state of perfection to which a money-pig can attain. There he stood upon the cupboard, high and lofty, looking down upon everything else in the room. He knew very well that he had enough inside him to buy up all the other toys, and this gave him a very good opinion of his own value. The rest thought of this fact also, although they did not express it, for there were so many other things to talk about. A large doll, still handsome, though rather old, for her neck had been mended, lay inside one of the drawers which was partly open. She called out to the others, “Let us have a game at being men and women, that is something worth playing at.”
Upon this there was a great uproar; even the engravings, which hung in frames on the wall, turned round in their excitement, and showed that they had a wrong side to them, although they had not the least intention to expose themselves in this way, or to object to the game. It was late at night, but as the moon shone through the windows, they had light at a cheap rate. And as the game was now to begin, all were invited to take part in it, even the children’s wagon, which certainly belonged to the coarser playthings. “Each has its own value,” said the wagon; “we cannot all be noblemen; there must be some to do the work.”
The money-pig was the only one who received a written invitation. He stood so high that they were afraid he would not accept a verbal message. But in his reply, he said, if he had to take a part, he must enjoy the sport from his own home; they were to arrange for him to do so; and so they did. The little toy theatre was therefore put up in such a way that the money-pig could look directly into it. Some wanted to begin with a comedy, and afterwards to have a tea party and a discussion for mental improvement, but they commenced with the latter first. The rocking-horse spoke of training and races; the wagon of railways and steam power, for these subjects belonged to each of their professions, and it was right they should talk of them. The clock talked politics—“tick, tick;” he professed to know what was the time of day, but there was a whisper that he did not go correctly. The bamboo cane stood by, looking stiff and proud: he was vain of his brass ferrule and silver top, and on the sofa lay two worked cushions, pretty but stupid. When the play at the little theatre began, the rest sat and looked on; they were requested to applaud and stamp, or crack, when they felt gratified with what they saw. But the riding-whip said he never cracked for old people, only for the young who were not yet married. “I crack for everybody,” said the cracker.
“Yes, and a fine noise you make,” thought the audience, as the play went on.
It was not worth much, but it was very well played, and all the characters turned their painted sides to the audience, for they were made only to be seen on one side. The acting was wonderful, excepting that sometimes they came out beyond the lamps, because the wires were a little too long. The doll, whose neck had been darned, was so excited that the place in her neck burst, and the money-pig declared he must do something for one of the players, as they had all pleased him so much. So he made up his mind to remember one of them in his will, as the one to be buried with him in the family vault, whenever that event should happen. They all enjoyed the comedy so much, that they gave up all thoughts of the tea party, and only carried out their idea of intellectual amusement, which they called playing at men and women; and there was nothing wrong about it, for it was only play. All the while, each one thought most of himself, or of what the money-pig could be thinking. His thoughts were on, as he supposed, a very distant time—of making his will, and of his burial, and of when it might all come to pass. Certainly sooner than he expected—for all at once down he came from the top of the press, fell on the ground, and was broken to pieces. Then the pennies hopped and danced about in the most amusing manner. The little ones twirled round like tops, and the large ones rolled away as far as they could, especially the one great silver crown piece who had often to go out into the world, and now he had his wish as well as all the rest of the money. The pieces of the money-pig were thrown into the dust-bin, and the next day there stood a new money-pig on the cupboard, but it had not a farthing in its inside yet, and therefore, like the old one, it could not rattle. This was the beginning with him, and we will make it the end of our story.