FAIRY TALE IN SEVEN PICTURES
Content
FIRST MESE
about a mirror and its pots
Listen to this! Let the story begin. By the end, we'll know more than we did at the beginning. Once upon a time, there was an evil elf. He was meaner than Gonzalo, the devil himself. One day he was in a mad humour, for he had managed to grind a mirror to which, when good and beautiful things were held, they became nothing on its face, and the useless and ugly things were beaten back, greatly magnified and made prominent.
The most beautiful green landscapes were shown as boiled spinach, the best people were represented as having a lousy face, or as standing on a pond; faces so distorted that no one could recognize them; those with a freckle of gold on their cheeks must have seen themselves in the mirror as looking like a scraggly face.
- "What a joke!" the devil rubbed his hands together.
If a man of godly, pious thoughts looked in the mirror, the mirror showed him a grinning, distorted face - the evil devil must have been happy! His sorceresses, for the devil had a school of magic, spoke of miracles, and said that at last all men could see what they were like.
They took the mirror all over the world, and in the end there was no country, no man, whose distorted image was not reflected in the evil mirror. Then they wanted to fly up into the sky with the mirror. But suddenly it slipped out of their hands and fell to earth, where it shattered into a million and a trillion tiles.
This has led to even more trouble than before. For some of the pieces of the mirror were scarcely larger than a grain of sand; these tiny fragments were scattered all over the world, and he who caught one of these little fragments in his eye saw the back of everything, for every drop of the mirror had as much evil power as the whole mirror.
Others had a small mirror-pot stuck in their heart, and that was the most terrible, because it froze the heart like ice. There were also pieces of mirror so large that they could be fitted into window frames, but from this window it was not advisable to look at friends passing by; some of the pieces were made into spectacles, and it was also difficult to judge things rightly and fairly through such spectacles.
The devil laughed so hard his belly quivered, tickled by the splendid idea. The dusty shards of the shattered mirror still floated in the air. Well, we'll hear more about that in a moment.
SECOND MESSE
about a little boy and a little girl
In the heart of the big city, where there are so many houses and people, space is at a premium, and most people don't have gardens, so they make do with potted flower gardens. There were two poor little children in the town who had a garden bigger than a pot. They were not brothers, but they loved each other as much as if they had been brothers. Their parents lived opposite each other, in attics where the roofs of two neighbouring houses almost met, and under the roof ran gutters. The windows of the two attics opened onto the roof, and you had to cross the gutter to get from one window to the other.
Both of their parents had put a wooden box of soil in their window, in which they grew vegetables, even roses; in each box a small rose bloomed, both of them grew beautifully. The children's parents then had the idea of laying the two wooden boxes crosswise over the gutter from one window to the other.
They did, it was like two flowering hedges connecting two small attic windows. Pea-bushes drooped low from the two boxes, the long branches of the two rose-bushes framed the windows, their crowns bent towards each other; they resembled a diadems of flowers and leaves. The wooden boxes were very high, and the children were not allowed to climb them, but their parents allowed them to carry their little stools to each other and play in the shade of the rose trees.
Of course, in winter, this was out of the question. The windows were sometimes covered with ice blossoms, but the children would heat copper coins on the side of the stove and press them onto the icy glass. They melted a pretty round window, stuck half their eyes on it, and the little boy and girl peeped over to each other. The boy's name was Kay, the girl's Gerda. In the summer they could be at each other's side in one jump, in the winter it was harder: many, many steps down, then many, many steps up. And outside it was cold, the snow was swirling.
- The white bees are drawing!" said the boy's grandmother.
- Do they have a queen?" asked Kay, because she knew that real bees did.
- Of course! - said his grandmother. - He flies where the snowflakes are thickest. He is the biggest; he never rests on the ground, he flies up again and again among the lead-coloured clouds. On winter nights, he sometimes glides over the streets of the city and peers through the windows, painting those beautiful ice flowers on the glass.
- "Yes, he painted ours too," said the two children at once, and now they saw that the story was true.
- Could the Snow Queen come in here too? - asked the little girl.
- Come on!" cried the boy. - I'd put him on the warm stove and he'd melt all at once.
But her grandmother stroked her hair and started a new story.
In the evening, as little Kay was getting ready for bed, she thought, and climbed up on the chair in front of the window, and peeped out of the round little window of the frosted glass; outside the snowflakes were fluttering sparsely, and one of them, the largest, was settling down on the edge of the window-box. There it settled and grew, grew and grew, and grew, and grew into a wispy maiden; her delicate white veil was woven with millions of feathery stars.
She was beautiful and fragile; her body was a shining white ice, yet alive and vibrant; her eyes shone like stars in the sky, but her gaze was restless and hesitant. She nodded towards the window and waved her hand. The little boy jumped down from his chair in fright, and then he saw what seemed to him a great white bird flutter past the window.
The sun was shining, the sun was shining cold, but then the thaw came; spring came, the sun came out, the grass was shining in the fields, the swallows were nesting, the people opened their windows, and the two good fellows sat out again in their little garden up there, in front of the two attics.
Never had the two roses bloomed so beautifully as this summer; the little girl had learned a song from the roses, and when she sang it she always thought of her own roses; she taught it to her little friend, and from that time they sang it together:Roses bloom, petals fall on the branch.
little Jesus, see you soon!
They held hands, kissed all the flowers of the rose garden, looked up at the radiant sky and sang to the heavens as if the baby Jesus were sitting up there. What a wonderfully beautiful summer it was; how good it felt to cool under the lush rose boughs, which never ran out of blossom.
Kay and Gerda sat outside in their tiny garden, looking at animals and birds in a big picture book. They were ringing the five bells in the big tower when Kay cried out:
- Oh, what a pang in my heart! Gerda hugged her neck fiercely, Kay squinted and blinked, but she could see nothing in his eyes.
- "I don't think it's in there anymore," Kay said. But it was. It was a tiny shard of the magic mirror that had fallen to the ground, and - remember that? - had shrunk or distorted all that was good and beautiful, and magnified all that was bad and evil, and brought out the faults in everything and everyone. The poor little boy had just had one of those evil little splinters drilled into his heart. Soon it will freeze his heart like ice. He no longer felt pain, but the splinter was in his heart.
- What are you crying about? - he snarled at the little girl. - How disfiguring it is to cry! Stop crying, I'm fine! "Eugh!" she cried suddenly. "That rose over there is chewed by a worm! And how crookedly it grew! How ugly that rose is! He kicked roughly at the wooden box and tore the two roses off.
- What are you doing, Kay? - cried little Gerda, frightened, and when Kay saw her terror, she plucked another rose, left her dear little friend, and jumped through the window of their attic room.
Later, when Gerda brought him the picture-book, he made fun of it; and said it was for swaddlers; when his grandmother told him stories, he always interrupted her, teased her, and at other times crept after her, put glasses on his nose, and acted and talked just like his grandmother.
She did a great impression of the old lady, and people laughed a lot. Soon she could imitate the speech and gait of everyone on the street. Kay discovered and made fun of all their oddities and ugliness, and people could not help admiring him: what a sharp-eyed, clever boy!
But it was the shard of glass that made her eyes bright, and the other shard of glass that froze her heart, and that made her tease even little Gerda, who loved her with all her heart.
He invented a whole new game, one in which the intellect played the most important role. One winter's day, when a fierce wind stirred the snowflakes, he took a large magnifying-glass outside and caught the flakes with the tip of his blue coat.
- "Look through the magnifying-glass, Gerda, how interesting!" he pointed to the flakes; "indeed, the flakes were wonderfully large, the size of a strange flower or a ten-pointed star; a delight to the eye. - What an artistic drawing! How much more interesting than real flowers! They are perfect, each petal regular. It's a pity they melt.
Soon he stepped out onto the street wearing thick gloves and carrying a sledge. He shouted in Gerda's ear, "I'm allowed to go sledding in the big square where the other boys are!" and he was gone.
In that square the most daring boys used to frolic; they often tied their sledges to the horns of the farm wagons and pulled themselves a good distance. They were having fun with it now. When they were at their merriest, a large sleigh, painted white, flew towards them; a figure in a white fur coat and a white fur hat sat on its rump. The sleigh circled the large space twice, and Kay quickly hitched her little sledge to it.
The white sleigh sped faster and faster with him, turning into the nearest street; the sleigh's carriage turned back, waving to Kay, who seemed to have known him for a long time. Every time he tried to untie his little sledge, he waved him on, and Kay pulled on; at last they came out of the town gate.
There the snow was swirling so thickly that the boy could see no further than his nose, but the sledge was flying; Kay hurriedly untied the rope, but in vain, he could not get free, for the little sledge seemed to have stuck to the big one, and was racing after it like a gale. Kay cried for help, but no one heard her; the snow was falling, the sledge was running, and sometimes it jumped high, as if it had to fly over hedges and ditches.
Bigger and bigger snowflakes swirled around him; they were the size of white birds. Suddenly they flew up out of the way of the sledge, the sledge stopped, and the figure on the trestle rose. Her coat and cap were covered with snow; Kay saw only now that she was a womanly, shining white-bodied, slender, wolfish creature: the Snow Queen herself.
- We have come a long way! - said the Snow Queen. - But you look cold. Get into my bear coat! - She sat Kay down beside her on the sleigh, wrapped him in her fur, and he felt as if he were up to his neck in snow.
- Still cold? - the Snow Queen asked him, kissing him on the forehead. Her kiss was cold, colder than ice. The icy breath ran straight to Kay's heart, freezing her half-ice heart even harder. For a moment she felt as if she were dying, but then she felt a comforting sensation; and she didn't feel the biting cold.
- My sled! Don't forget my little sled! - he remembered when he woke up. A white snowflake bird was caught in the sledge and flew swiftly along behind the big white sledge. The Snow Queen kissed Kay again, and she forgot all about little Gerda, her grandmother, and everything she had left at home.
- Now I'll never kiss you again! - said the Snow Queen. - You'll freeze to death.
Kay looked up at her; she was so beautiful! It was as if his face were not made of ice now, as it had been when she had waved to him from the window; she saw him as a perfect being, and she was not a bit afraid of him. He boasted to her what a good head-counter he was, that he could divide and multiply by fractions; he knew how many square miles the country was, and how many inhabitants it had. The Snow Queen just looked at him and smiled.
Kay suddenly had the impression that she knew very little, and looked up at the endless, high sky. Then the Snow Queen picked her up and carried her away, flew her into the great black clouds. A thunderstorm roared and raged around them, singing as if it were songs of long ago.
They flew over forests and lakes, over seas and land, deep below them a hurricane roared, wolves howled, snow sparkled, and above them black crows flew with loud, black caws. But high above, the moon's great saucer shone clear, and Kay looked at it in the long, long winter night, always at the moon; by day she lay at the Snow Queen's feet, and slept soundly.
HARMONY FAIR
about the wizard woman's flower garden
What happened to little Gerda when he waited in vain for his buddy to return from sledging? Where is Kay? - no one knew. All the boys could tell about her was that she had tied her little sledge to a splendid white sleigh; they turned into the nearest street and disappeared through the town gate. No one knew where the sledge had taken Kay, many tears were shed for her, and little Gerda wept for a long time. Later, word got around that Kay had died, drowned in the river that meandered along the edge of town. What long and dark winter days those were!
Then, with the warm sunshine, spring suddenly arrived.
- Kay is gone and dead! - Gerda complained to the sunlight.
- I don't believe it!" said the sunshine.
- He went and died! - Gerda shouted to the swallows.
- We don't believe it! - the swallows chirped, and finally even little Gerda couldn't believe the sad news.
- I put on my new red shoes! - she said one morning. - The one Kay had never seen before. Then I'm going to the river to ask him.
It was early in the morning; Gerda kissed her sleeping grandmother, put on her new red shoes, and set off alone, through the town gate to the river. - I will give you my beautiful red shoes if you give them back.
He saw the waves beckoning to him. Then she pulled off her most treasured possession, her new red shoes, and threw them into the river, but she could not throw them far, and the waves swept her back to shore, as if the river would not accept Gerda's great sacrifice, for it could not give Kay back in return. But Gerda thought the trouble was that she couldn't throw the red shoe far enough, so she got into a boat that was rocking in the reeds, sat on the edge and threw it into the water.
But the boat was not moored, and at the first movement of the little girl, she started down the water. When Gerda saw it, she wanted to get out, but the boat was already far from the shore, flying down the river with its little passenger.
Little Gerda cried out in fright, but no one heard her cry except the sparrows, and they could not help her, but accompanied the boat, and chirped comfortingly from on high: - Here we are! Here we are! - The boat was drifting swiftly, and little Gerda was crouching quietly in the corner, with only stockings on her feet; her red shoes were tumbling behind the boat, but she could not catch them, for the waves were carrying her faster.
Beautiful landscapes stretched past him on either bank, flowers in bloom, old trees, rolling hillsides where cows and sheep grazed, but he saw no people.
- "Maybe the river will take us to Kay," hoped little Gerda, and her spirits brightened. She got up in the boat and looked for hours at the green shores; then the boat drew near to a large cherry orchard, in which stood a small house, thatched, but with strange blue and red glass in its windows, and two wooden soldiers standing guard, saluting all the river's passengers with their guns.
Gerda shouted to them, thinking them to be lively soldiers; but the wooden soldiers did not answer. The little girl soon came nearer to them, for the waves were pushing the boat towards the shore.
Gerda shouted even louder, and an old, old woman limped out of the cottage, leaning on her hooked stick. She wore a wide-brimmed garden hat, covered with flowers of all colours.
- "Poor child!" said the old woman piteously, "how did you get into the swift current that has carried you so far? - Then she waded into the water, hooked the boat with her hook-rod, and pulled little Gerda out.
The little girl was glad to feel solid ground under her feet, but she was also a little afraid of the unfamiliar old woman.
- So come and tell us who you are and how you came to be here. - the little girl encouraged her.
Gerda told her everything, the old woman shook her head and hummed, and when she asked her if she had seen Kay, she said that he had not yet come this far, but he would surely come, so Gerda should not be sorry for him, but should pick cherries in the garden and look at the flowers, for they were not so beautiful as those in any picture-book, and the flowers even told stories, each one different. He took Gerda by the hand, led her into the little house, and shut the door.
The blue, red, and yellow panes of the tall windows shone, and the sunlight filtered through them in wonderful colours; there was a bowl of cherries on the table, and Gerda could eat as much as she liked. While she was gazing at the cherries, the old woman was combing the girl's shining, wavy hair with a golden comb, which flowed like molten gold around her delicate rose petal cheeks.
- "I've always wanted such a nice little girl!" said the old woman. "You'll see how nice she'll be here with me! - She combed and combed Gerda's hair, and as she combed it, the little girl forgot her adopted brother Kay more and more, for the old woman knew magic. She was no wicked witch, she had taken up witchcraft for her own amusement: now to keep little Gerda for herself. She went out into her garden, swung her hooked stick at her roses, and they suddenly sank without a trace, however splendidly they had been blooming. They had to disappear, lest little Gerda should remember your rose tree, your lost friend. The old woman was afraid Gerda would run away to look for Kay.
Then he led Gerda out into his flower garden. Oh, how much beauty there was, and what a fragrance it smelled. There were all the flowers of the four seasons: no picture-book could show a more beautiful cleverness. Gerda jumped for joy and played in the garden until the sun set behind the tall cherry trees. The old woman made her a soft bed in the evening with red silk pillows filled with violet flowers. Gerda slept sweetly, and dreamed dreams as sweet as a princess on her wedding day.
The next day he could play outside again in the sunny garden among the beautiful flowers, and so many days passed. He knew every flower, but he felt that there was a flower missing from the garden, he just didn't know which one. One day he sat outside the little house and admired the old woman's hat and the most beautiful painted flower in the hat, a rose. The enchantress had sunk the roses of her garden, but she had forgotten to remove the rose from her hat, she had not thought of it. So it is with the forgetful.
- Look!" cried little Gerda. "There are no roses in this garden! - She ran through the flower beds, looking and looking for a rose, but she could not find one. She sat down on the edge of a bed and wept. But her tears fell where a rose-plant had sunk, and as the hot tears ran down into the ground, the rose-plant sprang up, and bloomed as beautifully as before. Gerda embraced the branches, kissed the flowers, thought of her dear rose tree at home, and remembered her lost friend.
- Oh, how much time I've wasted here! - I was going after Kay. Have you seen her around? - What do you think: is she missing or dead?
- "He is not dead", the roses replied. - We have been underground, the dead are all there, but your friend was not among them.
- Thank you, dear roses! - little Gerda thanked me. She ran to the other flowers, bent over their chalices and asked them:
- Have you seen Kay, my buddy?
But the flowers just stretched in the sunlight, dreaming their own tales. Gerda listened to many, many stories, but there was no mention of Kay in any of them. Let's hear what the flowers told her.
- 'Above the narrow mountain road,' the river-dar began, 'rises an ancient knight's castle; thick evergreens flow into its red stone walls and projecting balconies. A fair maiden stands on the balcony, leans over the railing, and watches the path. No rose-bud on the branch is more fresh, No apple-rose more lightly soaring, Than she, in her lovely silken gown, rustling. Does she not come, still not come?
- Are you asking Kay? - Gerda interjected.
- "I'm only telling my story, the story I dreamed," said the river dwarf.
What does the little snowdrop tell you?
- Two ropes with planks swinging between the branches - the swing. On the swing two pretty girls are swaying, their dresses white as snow, their hats with long green silk ribbons; their brother stands between them on the swing, holding the rope with his arm, for in one hand he has a glass, in the other a clay pipe: he is blowing soap bubbles. The bubbles, colourful as rainbows, float up and down the swing; the last one is still on the pipe, swaying in the breeze. The swing flies, and the little black dog - light as a bubble - stands on two legs and asks to be allowed to swing a little; the swing goes on, the little dog bounces up and down, and the children are moved by it, and the soap bubbles burst... A swing that stands up, a bubble that bursts - that's my story.
- It must be a nice tale, but you made it sound so sad! And you don't talk about Kay, my pal!
Let's hear what the hyacinth has to say.
- Once upon a time there were three sisters, frail and delicate creatures, one always in a red dress, the other in blue, the third in pure white. At full moon they danced holding hands on the quiet lakeside. They were not fairies, but children of mortals. A sweet fragrance wafted through the air, and the girls disappeared into the forest; the scent grew stronger, and suddenly three coffins glided out of the forest and onto the lake - the three beautiful girls lay in them. Fireflies fluttered around them like floating candles of green light. Are the dancing-legged maidens asleep or dead? The smell of flowers says they're dead, the evening bell cries dead.
- How sad your story is! - "And your smell is so strong, it reminds me of dead girls. Is little Kay really dead? The roses were down in the ground, and they say they were not seen down there.
- "Ching-ling!" rang the bells of the hyacinth drop. "We do not ring for Kay, for we do not know her. We only tell our tale, the only tale we know.
Gerda then bent down to the buttercup, which shone yellow among its green leaves.
- You shine like a tiny sun! - "Tell me where I can find my dear friend!
Buttercup looked up at Gerda with bright eyes. What story does she know? Her story isn't about Kay either.
- The sun shone down warmly on a small courtyard on the first morning of spring. From the white wall of the neighbour's house the sunbeams glanced down to the ground; at the base of the wall the first yellow flower of spring had opened its petals, shining like gold in the sunshine. The old woman sat on a chair outside, her grandson, the poor little servant, had just returned home, and kissed his grandmother. In her loving kiss her golden heart was felt. Her heart was gold, her words were gold, the sunshine of spring was gold. "That's my story," said the buttercup.
- "Poor old grandmother!" sighed Gerda. "She must miss me, she mourns for me, as she mourns for Kay. But she won't be sad for long, I'm going home soon, and I'll take Kay home with me! The flowers will tell me nothing about her, they know only their own stories, and I can't ask them. - She pinched up her skirt to make her run faster, but the daffodil tripped her when she tried to jump over. Gerda paused, bent down to the long-stemmed yellow flower and asked.
What did the daffodil say to him?
- I see myself! I see myself! - she exulted. - Oh, how sweet I smell! Upstairs in a little attic room a little dancer stretches herself half-naked; she stands on one foot or the other, with the whole world at her feet. What a feast for the eyes! She pours water from a teapot into a bowl and washes her corset, which holds her waist straight. Purity is a praiseworthy thing! Her white dress hangs on the rack, washed by herself, dried on the roof. She picks it up and wraps a saffron-coloured shawl around her neck, which makes her dress look even whiter. She stretches out her legs - look how high! I can see myself! I see myself!
- "I don't want to hear your story!" said little Gerda. - And she ran on towards the end of the garden.
The gate was locked, but Gerda pulled the rusty handle so hard that it broke, the gate swung open, and Gerda rushed barefoot into the world beyond. She looked back three times, but no one was chasing her. She was very tired and sat down on a large stone. When she looked around, she saw that summer was over and it was late autumn, only she hadn't noticed it in the sunny garden, where all the flowers of the four seasons were together.
- God, I've wasted so much time! - "It's autumn already!" cried Gerda. But now I'm not stopping any longer! - She got up at once and went on her way. Oh, how tired she was, how her weak little feet were hurt by the road! The landscape around him was cold and barren, the narrow leaves of the willows were yellow, a cold mist hung over the trees, and dry leaves rolled down to the ground. Only the pear still offered its fruit, but it was so sour that it made one's mouth water. Oh, how grey, how sad the far-off world!
FIRST MESSE
about the prince and the princess
Gerda had to rest again; there was a large crow perched on the snow where she sat. For a while he did not move, his head moved to and fro as he looked at the little girl, and then suddenly he said. Wait, girl! - He pronounced the words badly enough, but he had a good heart for little Gerda, and asked her where she was going all alone. This word, alone, Gerda understood very well, and it struck her heart. She told the crow her whole life, and at last asked him if he had seen Kay in the country.
The crow nodded gravely; and cryptically said only: - Perhaps! Perhaps!
- Really? Would you have seen it?! - cried the little girl, and almost strangled the crow, hugging and kissing it.
- Wait! Wait!" the crow waved him down. I think it was Kay I saw coming this way. If not, she's probably forgotten you for the sake of the princess.
- Are you staying with a princess? - Gerda was amazed.
- "Yes," said the crow, "I'll tell you in a moment, but I find it very difficult to speak in your language. Can you understand me in crow?
- No, I didn't learn that. But my grandmother knows crow, she even knows your speech. Too bad I didn't learn it from her!
- Too bad!" nodded the crow. "But never mind, I'll tell you as best I can in human language, though I'm sure I'll make a lot of mistakes. - And he told me what he knew:
- In this kingdom where you are, there lives a princess; a very clever creature, for she has read all the newspapers of the world; so clever that she has read and forgotten every line of them. The other day she was sitting on her throne, which is not as pleasant as people think. He sat there, I say, and began to hum a song. He said, "I'm going to be married, why shouldn't I?" She wanted to marry, indeed, but to a man whose tongue was always right when he was spoken to, and whose rank and birth were not all his science, for that was a very dull thing. So he had the princess's ladies-in-waiting assembled, and when they heard of their mistress's intention, they were glad. "A good thing! - I was thinking about it myself the other day!"
"You can believe everything I say," the crow continued, "I won't add to it, I won't take away from it. My fiancée is a tame crow, she walks freely in the palace, she told me the whole story.
Of course, the crow's sweetheart is also a crow, as it is the same with birds: every bag has its own spot.
- From that time on, the newspapers appeared, framed with hearts and emblazoned with the name of the Queen," continued the crow, "and it was announced that every handsome young man would be admitted to the palace, and could talk to the Queen, and if there was one among them who could talk as cleverly and as freely as if he were at home, he would be chosen by the Queen to be her husband. 'Believe me,' said the crow, 'it is as true as sitting here. There was a great horserace at the news, and all the young men of the realm rushed to the place, but none could stand their ground on the first day or the second. And their tongues were wagging in the streets outside, but when they entered the palace gates and saw the guards in silver, and the footmen in gold all along the stairs, and the great halls in bright lights, every one of them was speechless. And when they stood before the throne of the queen! They lost their heads, and could do no better than repeat the last words of the queen, who was not really interested. The suitors seemed to have fallen into a poppy sleep inside, and only when they were out on the street again did their tongues wag. There was a long queue outside the palace, the end of the queue was at the city gate. I was there, too, because I was curious to see them. They were hungry and thirsty, and in the palace they had not even been given a glass of warm water. The clever ones did take buttered bread with them, but they did not share it with their companions, thinking to themselves, "Let them stagger from hunger, at least the Queen does not want them!"
- And Kay? When are you going to talk about Kay? - interjected little Gerda impatiently. - Perhaps she was among those waiting?
- Wait! Wait!" the crow warned him. "You'll hear about it in a minute. On the third day, a young lad arrived at the palace. He had neither carriage nor horse, and he rode with great haste straight to the palace. He had eyes as bright as yours, and long hair, but his clothes were shabby and poor.
- It was Kay, it could only be her! - she exulted. Gerda.
- "It had a little bat on its back," continued the crow, but , the little girl interrupted:
- It was his little sled, the one he was pulling when he disappeared.
- "Maybe," the crow let him know. But I know from my tamed bride that when she entered the palace gates and saw the bodyguards in silver and the footmen in gold on the stairs, she was speechless. He just nodded to them and said, "It must be boring standing on the stairs! I'd rather go in!" The great halls were bathed in light, secret councillors and pious lords walked barefoot, and gold vessels were carried about; awe filled anyone who looked round. But the young lad was not a bit afraid, though his boots creaked.
- It was him, it was definitely Kay! - She was wearing her new boots when she left; I heard them creaking at home.
- It sure squeaked loudly! - And he entered with great gaiety to the princess, who was sitting on a pearl, but it was as big as the wheel of a rocket. Around her were her ladies-in-waiting with their ladies-in-waiting and their ladies-in-waiting, and the knights of the high rank with their valets and their valets' valets, and their servants, who were more and more tense the lower they stood in the line. The servants of the servants of the servants of the servants of the servants walk but in their breeches, but you cannot look at them, they stand so proudly in the doorway.
- Oh how terrible it must be! - said little Gerda. - And tell me, did Kay get the Princess?
- If I were only a man, not a crow, I would have vied for his hand myself, though I already have a bride with a ring. But never mind. Says my tame sweetheart, the young fellow had his tongue in the right place, as I have mine, when I speak in crow's tongue. He spoke boldly and eloquently; he had not come to propose, but to see the queen's famous cleverness, and it pleased him that she thought him clever too.
- It was Kay, it couldn't have been anything else! - "She was always so clever, she could even multiply and divide with fractions, and in her head! You will take me to that palace, won't you, dear crow?
- It's not that easy," said the crow. "Wait, how could it be? I'll ask my tame bride, she'll give me some advice. For I can tell you that a little girl like you could never get into the palace by a straight road!
- "I'll get in," said Gerda, "for if Kay hears I'm there, he'll come out and fetch me and take me in.
- Wait! Wait for me by that fence! - said the crow, nodding goodbye and flying away.
It was an old night when he returned.
- Too bad, too bad! 'My fiancée sent for you,' she said, settling down beside Gerda, 'and sent you a piece of bread; she took it from the kitchen, for there is enough, and you must be very hungry. You must not enter the palace gate, for you are barefoot, and the silver guards and the gold footmen would stand in your way. But never fear, you shall enter the palace. My bride knows a little back staircase that leads straight to the bedroom, and she knows where the key to the bedroom is.
They left at once, and went into the garden of the palace, into the great tree-lined garden, where the yellow leaves were falling. When the last window of the palace was darkened, the crow led little Gerda to a small back door. The door was not locked, only bolted.
Oh, how the little girl's heart was beating! How fear and desire made it beat! She felt as if she were in the wrong, when all she wanted to know was whether Kay was in the palace. It must be she, only she; Gerda remembered so clearly Kay's clever eyes, her beautiful long hair; she could almost see her smiling before her, as she had at home when they had sat under their roses.
But it will make Kay happy to see her little buddy again, to know how far she's come for him, and how much they cried at home when he disappeared. Gerda looked forward to the reunion, but she was also afraid of it.
They started up the back stairs, where a small lantern was flickering on a cupboard; when they reached the top, there on the floor before them stood the crow's tamed bride, turning her head from side to side curiously, and looking at Gerda, who bowed respectfully, as she had learned from her grandmother.
- "My fiancé has told me many nice things about you, my little lady!" he began, with a choice manner. - Your life story is, so to speak, very moving. 'Will you kindly hold the lamp, I will go first. Straight this way, we'll meet no one here.
- It's like someone is already coming behind us! - Gerda noticed. Suddenly something passed in front of her like a shadow on a wall: horses with flaming manes and slender legs, hunting horses, lords and ladies on horseback.
- "They are only dream images," said the crow-bride, "They come to hunt the thoughts of the bright lords. Very well they do, at least we can observe their bodies left in bed more calmly. I hope, when you reach high dignity, you will not forget your gratitude.
- Not for the world! - said the wood crow.
They entered the first room. The walls were covered with pink floral atlases, and here the riders of the dream were galloping far ahead, but so swiftly that Gerda could not see the bright lords. The next hall was even more dazzling, and they looked around dreamily. At last they came to the bedroom. The ceiling of this was like the crown of a palm-tree with leaves of crystal glass; in the centre two hammocks in the shape of lily-cups swung on solid golden stems.
One of the lily pots was white - the princess was lying in it, the other was red - little Gerda wanted to look for Kay in it. She pushed aside one of the red petals, and saw a sunburnt neck on the white strap. - Yes, it's Kay!" cried Gerda, holding up the lamp. The troop of dreaming horsemen reeled back into the room, the prince awoke, and turned to Gerda-no, it was not Kay.
Only her neck reminded me of Kay, but otherwise she was young and beautiful. From between the petals of her white lily bed, the princess also looked out and asked what was happening. Little Gerda burst into tears, and told her the whole story, and what the crows had done for her.
- My poor child! - the prince and princess were sorry, and then they praised the two crows; they said they forgave them for what they had done, but that they should not do it again. Otherwise they will get their reward.
- Tell me: are you choosing freedom or a secure job as court crows? - "Then you would be entitled to all the spoils of the kitchen.
The Crow subscribers bowed politely and opted for a secure job, thinking of their old age.
- It would certainly be nice if we had something to put in our old age! - they nodded.
The prince got up and laid little Gerda in his bed - he could do no more for her. The little girl folded her hands and thought gratefully, "How good are men and animals!" - Then she closed her eyes and fell sweetly asleep. The dreamy figures came into the room again; this time they were not hunters, but angels in sleighs. Kay sat on the little sled and waved. But it was all a dream, and when Gerda woke up the whole apparition suddenly disappeared.
The next day Gerda was dressed from head to toe in silk and velvet, and told to stay in the palace, she had nowhere better to go. But all Gerda asked for was a carriage, a horse and a pair of small shoes to take her on a journey to the far world to find Kay.
He was given shoes, a pair of armlets, and dressed in fine clothes, and when he left the palace, a brand-new gold carriage rolled up to the gate, with the royal lady and the prince's coat of arms shining like a star in the sky, a coachman on his horse, a footman in the back, a bellboy in front, and all wearing gold crowns on their heads. The prince and princess themselves helped Gerda into the carriage, and wished him a happy journey.
The wood crow, who had already married his tame bride, accompanied her three miles; he settled himself on the seat beside her, for if he sat with his back to the direction of travel he felt dizzy; the crow-maiden took leave of them at the palace gate with a flutter of wings; she did not accompany them, for she had a headache - she had probably eaten too much since she had been made a courtier. The golden carriage was lined with sweet pretzels, and the seat was piled with fruit and honey.
- Goodbye! Goodbye! - the prince and princess said goodbye to Gerda. Gerda wept, and the crow wept with her for three miles, and there he bade her farewell. It was a heartbreaking farewell. The crow flew up on a branch, and waved his black wings until the carriage, shining like the sun, was out of sight.
FIFTH MESE
about the little robber girl
Dark crowds drove through where the carriage was lit like a burning torch. And the forest haramias saw it, and there was nothing left for them to do.
- The carriage is made of gold! Made of gold! - they shouted. They jumped out of the thicket, grabbed the horses' bridles, beat the bull's-eye, the coachman and the little man to death, and dragged Gerda out of the golden carriage.
- "Round, neat, you can see that it was fattened on walnut oil", praised an old woman haram. He had a bushy beard and thick eyebrows that poked into his eyes. - Like a beautiful, fatted lamb! It'll be very tasty! - He drew his sharp knife; the blade flashed so brightly that it sent a shiver down the man's spine.
- "Ouch!" she cried the next moment; her little daughter, whom she carried on her back, the wild and unruly little savage, bit her ear so that it was a pleasure to see. - You, you vile creature! - cursed her mother, and forgot Gerda.
- Be my playmate! - cried the little robber girl. - Give me your claws and your pretty dress, and sleep beside me! - She bit her mother again so hard that she jumped up and down, and turned round in pain. The forest haramias laughed loudly at her:
- Look how youthfully she dances with her kid!
- Let me sit in the carriage! - cried the little robber girl, and what she wanted was done, for she was a very stubborn creature, and she was spoiled. And she and little Gerda got into the carriage, and drove through the bushes and ditches towards the dark depths of the forest. The little robber girl must have been about Gerda's age, but stronger, and with a broader shoulder and darker skin; her eyes were black and sad-eyed. Suddenly she embraced Gerda and said:
- Don't worry, they won't kill you until I'm angry with you. You are a princess, aren't you?
- "No," said Gerda, and told the robber girl all her miseries, told her about Kay and how much she loved her.
The robber girl looked at him seriously, nodded and said:
- Even if I get angry with you, the haramis won't kill you, because then I'll kill you myself. "Then he wiped away Gerda's tears and buried his hand in the soft and warm claw.
Suddenly, the carriage stopped; they were in the middle of a robber's yard. There were huge cracks in the walls of the castle, ravens and crows were bursting out of their gaps, and huge bloodhounds were crawling out, big enough to tear a man to pieces. They did not bark because they were trained not to.
In the old, smoke-filled hall, a great fire burned in the middle of the stone floor, its smoke billowed up to the ceiling, and burst out into the open where it found a gap. In a great cauldron a soup was simmering, and on spits wild rabbits and rabbits were roasting.
- "Tonight you will sleep with me and my animals," said the girl thief. They ate and drank, then retired to a corner where straw sacks and rugs lay. Above them, on slats and poles, a hundred pigeons were dozing, and they began to move as the two girls approached.
- These are my pigeons! - said the robber girl, and caught the one on the wing. She seized his legs, and shook him so that he writhed in her hand in terror. - she cried, and threw the dove in Gerda's face. - 'And there sit my forest subjects,' he pointed to a hollow in the wall, which was blocked by a door of laths. And this is my dear old animal. And he dragged out a reindeer by the antlers. On the animal's neck shone a brass collar, with a thick rope. - It must be kept on a short leash, or it will escape. Every night I tickle his neck with my sharp knife; it makes him very afraid. - And he drew a long bladed knife from the crack in the wall and ran it across the reindeer's neck. The poor animal kicked in fright, and the thief-girl laughed heartily, and then drew Gerda to her couch.
- Do you put the knife next to you when you go to bed? - Gerda asked, looking at the sharp knife apprehensively.
- "Yes, he is with me even when I sleep," said the girl robber. - You never know what might happen. But tell me again what you told me about your friend, and why you took the world in your arms. - And Gerda told her story over and over again; the wild pigeons in the cage were hovering above them, and the gentle ones were sleeping peacefully. The little robber girl put her arm round Gerda's neck with one hand, and with the other she clutched the knife, and she was asleep, her calm breathing was audible. But Gerda could not sleep, for she did not know whether she would live or die. Around the blazing fire the robbers sat, drinking and drinking, and the woman of the warrior was vomiting up her tumbling buttocks in her wide merriment. Little Gerda watched, heartbroken.
The wild pigeons above were singing:
- Bur-ruk, bur-ruk! We saw little Kay! White Bird was flying his sleigh, and he himself was sitting on Snow Queen's sleigh, flying low over the forest; we were sitting in our nest, Snow Queen breathed on us, and only two of us survived, all our companions perished. Bur-ruk, bur-ruk!
- What did you say? - little Gerda looked up. - Where has the Snow Queen gone? What do you know about her?
- We think that he flew to the land of the Lapland on his sleigh, and that's where his kingdom must be, because the snow and ice never melt there. Ask the reindeer!
- Yes, the snow and ice are eternal there, and life is beautiful! - the reindeer sighs, tied to his reindeer bed. The Snow Queen pitches her summer tent there, but her winter palace is up towards the North Pole, on an island called the Spitsbergen.
- Oh, Kay, dear little Kay!" whispered Gerda.
- Shut up, or I'll stick this big knife in you! - the girl robber warned him to be quiet. Gerda had told her in the morning what she had heard from the wild pigeons, and the little robber girl had a very serious face, but then she shook her head and said:
- Still, he asked the reindeer, "Do you know where the land of the Lapps is?
- Who knows this better than me? - said the stag, his eyes lighting up. - I was born there, I was raised there, I've roamed the white snowfields there.
- "Listen well," said the thief girl to Gerda, "You see, the men have all gone, only my mother is left here. Every morning she pulls the big bottle, and then she takes a nap, and then we'll see what we can do.
He jumped out of bed, threw himself into his mother's neck, tugged at his beard and greeted her kindly:
- Good morning, my sweet goat!
Out of love, the haram woman gave him such a smack that his nose turned blue-green.
Then she took a good pull from the bottle and dozed off. The robber girl waited for this, went up to the reindeer and said:
- I'd like to tickle you a few more times with my knife, because you always act so funny when I do, but that's all right now. I'll untie your rope and set you free, so that you can ride off to your homeland in the land of the Lapps, and take this little girl with you. In the palace of the Snow Queen lives her dearest friend. Besides, you heard the story yourself, she said it loud enough, and you're always listening.
The reindeer leaped happily; the robber girl put little Gerda on her back, put her little ram under her as a saddle, and tied the little girl to the reindeer with great care.
- I'll give you back your fur boots too, because it's getting cold up north. But I'm keeping your claw handles, because I like them very much! You're not cold, don't be afraid! I'll give you my mother's gloves, big as your elbows. Pull it up. Look, your hands are as big as my ugly mother's
Little Gerda burst into tears of joy.
- Stop crying, I don't like it! - cried the little robber girl. - Now you can put on a happier face! Here's two loaves of bread and a ham for the road, if you get hungry! - She tied that on the reindeer's back, and then she opened the door, lured in the big dogs, and finally cut the reindeer's halter with her sharp knife and called out to the animal:
- Go for it! Take care of this little girl like the apple of your eye!
Gerda held out her gloved hand to the girl robber and said goodbye. The stag was already flying with her through ditch and bush, through dark woods, fields and marshes, as fast as her legs could carry her. Behind them wolves howled, ravens cawed overhead. "Zupp, zupp!" - came from above, as if the sky had suddenly turned red.
- Oh, the northern lights, the long-lost northern lights! - "Look how it shines on high!" cried the reindeer.
And on he flew, faster and faster, galloping day and night without rest. When the two loaves of bread and the ham were gone, they arrived in the land of the Lapps.
SIXTH FAIR
about the Lapland woman and the Finnish woman
The deer stopped in front of a small cottage - oh, what a miserable farm it was! Its roof reached down to the ground, and its door was so low that the occupants could only crawl in and out on their bellies. The people were not at home, only an old Lapland woman was in the house, by the flickering light of a fish-fryer, frying fish. The reindeer immediately told her Gerda's story, but not before she told her own, for she considered it more important. Gerda was so cold on the long journey that she could not even move her lips.
- "Oh, my poor darlings!" said the Lapland woman, "You have a long way to go! You have a hundred miles more to gallop before you reach the land of the Finns - that's where the Snow Queen lives now; and every night she has fireworks. I'll write a few lines on this dried cod, for I have no paper; give it to the Finnish woman, she'll be able to advise you more wisely than I.
While Gerda was warming herself, and beating away her hunger and thirst, the Lapland woman wrote her letter on the dried cod, tied it to the little girl's soul to keep her safe, and then tied it again on the reindeer's back, and she rode off with it. Up on high the zigzagging sounds were heard again, and a wonderful blue ray of northern light shone before them all night long-at last they came to the land of the Finns, and knocked at the Finnish woman's chimney, for there was no door to her house.
It was sweltering in the room, the Finnish woman was pacing around half-naked. She immediately took off Gerda's clothes, boots and gloves so that she wouldn't be so hot, put a piece of ice on the reindeer's forehead, then she read the letter written on the cod, read it a second and third time, and when she knew what she had written, she threw the cod into the pot, because it would make a delicious soup. The Finnish woman wasted nothing.
The reindeer told him the story of his life, and then that of little Gerda. The Finnish woman listened with a clever squint, saying nothing.
- 'You are so clever,' the reindeer complimented him, 'I know you can connect all the winds of the world with a thread. If a sailor can untie one knot, he has a good wind in his sail; if he unties the second, a strong wind blows over the sea; if he unties the third and fourth, a gale comes up that twists forests into thorns. You could give this little girl a potion so enchanting that she could have the strength of twelve men and defeat the Snow Queen!
- The strength of twelve men? "That would help him a great deal," said the Finnish woman, and stepping to a board-stand, she took down a large animal skin, rolled up in a ball, and spread it out; there were strange letters on it, and she began to read them, but it took so much effort that the sweat dripped from her brow.
The reindeer kept on pleading, and little Gerda hung her teary eyes on him so pleadingly that the Finnish woman began to squint again, and called the reindeer away into the corner. She put fresh ice on his head, and whispered to him:
- That boy Kay is in the Snow Queen's palace, and he's having a great time there, he thinks there's no place like it. But it is because of that shard of glass that has pierced his heart, and that other drop of glass that has fallen into his eye. Until they are taken out, he cannot become a real man, and the Snow Queen will always have power over him.
- Couldn't you give little Gerda a drink that would make her stronger than the Snow Queen? - asked the stag.
- I cannot give you more power than this little girl has; don't you see how great it is? A thread of herself, barefoot, has set out into the far world, and men and beasts are at her service. She can have no power from us, her power is her good heart, her innocent soul. If he cannot get into the Snow Queen's palace of his own accord, and take the shard of glass from Kay's heart and eyes, we cannot help him. Two miles farther on the Snow Queen's garden begins - take the little girl there, and lay her down on the snow at the base of the big red-berry bush, but then don't talk to your pals, and hurry back to me.
The Finnish woman put Gerda on the reindeer's back, and she wriggled as much as she could.
- I left my fur boots! I left my gloves! - Gerda shouted as she galloped. The icy cold warned her. But the reindeer did not dare to stop, he flew on until he came to a big bush with red berries. There he put her down, kissed her, shed big, shining tears, and started to run back. And little Gerda stood barefoot at the bushes, glove-less, on the frightfully cold Finnish soil.
He started to run, running as fast as his legs could carry him; suddenly a great mass of snowflakes came towards him. They did not fall from the sky - the sky was clear and bright with the northern light - they marched on the ground in a host; and the nearer they came, the more they grew. Gerda was reminded of the large and beautifully drawn snowflake flowers that Kay had shown her through the magnifying glass.
These snowflakes were big in reality, big and scary because they were alive: the Snow Queen's vanguard was approaching little Gerda. They were oddly shaped creatures, one resembled an ugly, large hedgehog, another looked like a ball of entwined snakes, a third like a fat bear cub with badger fur. But all were bright white from one to the other, for they were living snowflakes.
But now let's look at Kay: what happened to her in the meantime? Of course, he hadn't even thought of little Gerda, nor did he think that his former friend was standing outside the palace.
LATEST MESE
about what happened in the Snow Queen's palace and what happened later
The walls of the palace were high swirling whirlwinds of snow, its gates and windows intersecting winds. There were over a hundred rooms in the palace, larger and smaller depending on how the snow swirled. The largest of the halls was several miles long; all were lit by a brilliant northern light. They were vast halls, empty, icy cold and sparkling white.
There has never been a party here, not even a small-scale bear ball, with a snowstorm whistling the tune and polar bears dancing on their feet, with delicate and graceful movements; no board games were ever played here, with their cheeks and paws clasped together; no silver stork-ladies gossiped over afternoon coffee - the Snow Queen's spacious rooms were cold and deserted.
The fires of the northern lights rose and fell with such regularity that it was easy to calculate when they shone highest and when lowest. In the middle of one endless room, a frozen lake glistened. The ice was cracked into a thousand pieces, but into pieces so uniform that the pond was a veritable work of art. It was in the middle of this lake that the Snow Queen was enthroned when she was at home - she said she sat in the middle of the Mirror of Reason, and it was the most inviting mirror in the world.
Little Kay was now blue, almost black with cold, but she did not realize that she was cold, for the Snow Queen's kiss had made her shiver go away; her heart was already a frozen mass. She was piling flat, sharp pieces of ice on top of each other and next to each other, trying to give them some shape, like when we try to make shapes out of little wooden plates, which is called a Chinese toy. Kay was stacking artistic patterns and shapes out of ice; they were perfect masterpieces.
It was an icy game of wits, in his eyes a great and very important pastime - he saw it as such because of the shard of glass that had fallen in his eye. He tried to make a written word out of the patterns, but he never succeeded in making the word he wanted "Eternity." But the Snow Queen told him, "If you can make that word, you will be your own man again, and I will give you the whole world, and a new pair of skates to boot." So Kay struggled with that one word, but couldn't get it out.
- 'I'm flying to warm countries now,' said the Snow Queen one day. - I'll fly away and look down into the big black pots! - She thought of the volcanoes, Etna and Vesuvius, as people call them. - I'll whiten their sides a little! That's what I do, and it's good for lemons and grapes. "With that he flew away with a great whoosh, and Kay was left alone in the many miles of deserted hall, staring at the ice, and thinking so hard that her head was about to crack. She sat motionless, in a silence that anyone who saw her would have thought she was frozen.
Then little Gerda entered through the great gate of the palace. The winds were biting, but Gerda said her evening prayer, and all at once the winds calmed down as if they were going to sleep. Little Gerda entered the great, deserted hall, gleaming white, and saw her dear friend at last. She knew him at once, and threw her arms round his neck and hugged him:
- Kay! Sweet, sweet Kay! I found you at last!
Kay did not move, but sat cold and stiff, and Gerda began to sob in great pain, her hot tears falling on Kay's breast, and running down to the heart, melting the ice, and washing away the evil mirror-shard. Kay, as if from a dream, looked at Gerda, and then the little girl sang that old songRoses bloom, petals fall on the branch,
little Jesus, see you soon!
Kay's tears had come at last, and she was so showered with them that the other little mirror-shattered fragment had floated away with her; now she knew Gerda, and she cried out exultantly:
- Gerda, my sweet little Gerda! Where have you been for so long? And where have I been? - she looked around and shivered. - How bitterly cold it is here! And how empty and deserted everything! - And he embraced Gerda warmly, who cried and laughed with joy. Oh, what joy it was! Even the pieces of ice danced for joy, and when they were tired and rested, they formed the very word which the Snow Queen had said that if Kay could put it out, she would cease to have power over him, and give him the whole world, and a new skate to boot.
Gerda kissed Kay's cheek, and all at once he blushed; she kissed his eyes, and there was a clear light; she kissed his hands and feet, and his limbs were filled with strength. The Snow Queen could come home now, they had no fear of her. Kay's letter of leave was ready, and there it stood in bright ice letters.
They took each other by the hand and headed out of the Snow Queen's grand palace. They talked of Grandmother and the rose bushes over the gutter, and as they passed, the winds died down and the sun came out. At the base of the big red berry bush the reindeer was waiting for them, and beside him the young reindeer stag with the swelling udder. She gave them a warm milk drink and kissed them. The two reindeer then took Kay and Gerda on their backs and rode with them first to the Finnish woman.
They warmed up well at her place, and the Finnish woman showed them the way home. Then they continued their journey, stopping at the Lapland woman's house, where she sewed them new clothes and repaired Kay's sledge. From there they all set off together, the two reindeer riding alongside their sledges, and they accompanied the children all the way to the border of their homeland. There the first buds were already popping. Kay and Gerda said a grateful goodbye to the two reindeer and the Lapland woman.
- Goodbye!" they shouted.
The first birds of spring were calling, the woods were green, and a beautiful paripa was emerging from the trees. Gerda knew it at once: she had once drawn the golden fleece. She was a young girl on horseback, with a bright red cap on her head and pistols in her belt - a little robber girl, tired of her home life, who had gone north until she found the country. Then she'll wander to another land. She knew Gerda in a moment, and Gerda knew her - they were very crazy about each other.
- You're a handsome lad, I can tell you're twisted like that! - cried the little robber girl to Kay. - Come, do you deserve to be followed to the ends of the earth?
But Gerda stroked the face of the thief girl, and inquired if the prince and princess were alive.
- They are far away, they have travelled to a foreign land! - said the robber girl.
- What about the crows?
- "The crow-worm is dead," said the girl; "the tame crow-maiden is widowed, and has tied a little black thread on her leg to mourn. She is always lamenting, and it is a torment to listen to her chatter. But tell me now how you came to be there, and how you found it.
Gerda and Kay told their stories to each other.
- Much talk is cheap! - cried the little robber girl, and then she shook hands with them both, and promised them that if she ever came to their town, she would visit them. Then she wandered off into the world. Gerda and Kay went on, holding hands, through green and blooming spring landscapes, with bells ringing far ahead, and they recognised the tall towers of their town - yes, it was their great town, they had once lived there. Soon they turned through the gate of their house to Grandmother's door, up the stairs, into the room, where they found everything in its old place. The clock played the old tick-tock tune, its hands turning round and round in the same way, but a great change had happened to them: when they crossed the threshold they realised they had grown up. Through the open window, the blossoming rose boughs leaned in under the eaves, their little chairs stood there, each one sat on his own, and they held hands. The icy and barren splendour of the Snow Queen's palace was forgotten like a nightmare. Grandmother sat in the blessed sunlight and read a few lines from the Bible, "Verily I say unto you, Except ye become as these little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."
Kay and Gerda looked into each other's eyes, and the old song rang in their ears:Roses bloom, petals fall on the branch,
little Jesus, see you soon!
There they sat side by side, adults yet children, children at heart. It was summer, a bright, beautiful summer.
The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen (Hungarian Electronic Library)
