THE SNOW QUEEN IN SEVEN STORIES [1]
herbs for their own use, and a little
rose-bush in each box, which grew splendidly. Now after a while the
parents decided to place these two boxes across the water-pipe, so
that they reached from one window to the other and looked like two
banks of flowers. Sweet-peas drooped over the boxes, and the
rose-bushes shot forth long branches, which were trained round the
windows and clustered together almost like a triumphal arch of
leaves and flowers. The boxes were very high, and the children knew
they must not climb upon them, without permission, but they were
often, however, allowed to step out together and sit upon their little
stools under the rose-bushes, or play quietly. In winter all this
pleasure came to an end, for the windows were sometimes quite frozen
over. But then they would warm copper pennies on the stove, and hold
the warm pennies against the frozen pane; there would be very soon a
little round hole through which they could peep, and the soft bright
eyes of the little boy and girl would beam through the hole at each
window as they looked at each other. Their names were Kay and Gerda.
In summer they could be together with one jump from the window, but in
winter they had to go up and down the long staircase, and out
through the snow before they could meet.
"See there are the white bees swarming," said Kay's old
grandmother one day when it was snowing.
"Have they a queen bee?" asked the little boy, for he knew that
the real bees had a queen.
"To be sure they have," said the grandmother. "She is flying there
where the swarm is thickest. She is the largest of them all, and never
remains on the earth, but flies up to the dark clouds. Often at
midnight she flies through the streets of the town, and looks in at
the windows, then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderful
shapes, that look like flowers and castles."
"Yes, I have seen them," said both the children, and they knew
it must be true.
"Can the Snow Queen come in here?" asked the little girl.
"Only let her come," said the boy, "I'll set her on the stove
and then she'll melt."
Then the grandmother smoothed his hair and told him some more
tales. One evening, when little Kay was at home, half undressed, he
climbed on a chair by the window and peeped out through the little
hole. A few flakes of snow were falling, and one of them, rather
larger than the rest, alighted on the edge of one of the flower boxes.
This snow-flake grew larger and larger, till at last it became the
figure of a woman, dressed in garments of white gauze, which looked
like millions of starry snow-flakes linked together. She was fair
and beautiful, but made of ice- shining and glittering ice. Still
she was alive and her eyes sparkled like bright stars, but there was
neither peace nor rest in their glance. She nodded towards the
window and waved her hand. The little boy was frightened and sprang
from the chair; at the same moment it seemed as if a large bird flew
by the window. On the following day there was a clear frost, and
very soon came the spring. The sun shone; the young green leaves burst
forth; the swallows built their nests; windows were opened, and the
children sat once more in the garden on the roof, high above all the
other rooms. How beautiful the roses blossomed this summer. The little
girl had learnt a hymn in which roses were spoken of, and then she
thought of their own roses, and she sang the hymn to the little boy,
and he sang too:-
"Roses bloom and cease to be,
But we shall the Christ-child see."
Then the little ones held each other by the hand, and kissed the
roses, and looked at the bright sunshine, and spoke to it as if the
Christ-child were there. Those were splendid summer days. How
beautiful and fresh it was out among the rose-bushes, which seemed
as if they would never leave off blooming. One day Kay and Gerda sat
looking at a book full of pictures of animals and birds, and
rose-bush in each box, which grew splendidly. Now after a while the
parents decided to place these two boxes across the water-pipe, so
that they reached from one window to the other and looked like two
banks of flowers. Sweet-peas drooped over the boxes, and the
rose-bushes shot forth long branches, which were trained round the
windows and clustered together almost like a triumphal arch of
leaves and flowers. The boxes were very high, and the children knew
they must not climb upon them, without permission, but they were
often, however, allowed to step out together and sit upon their little
stools under the rose-bushes, or play quietly. In winter all this
pleasure came to an end, for the windows were sometimes quite frozen
over. But then they would warm copper pennies on the stove, and hold
the warm pennies against the frozen pane; there would be very soon a
little round hole through which they could peep, and the soft bright
eyes of the little boy and girl would beam through the hole at each
window as they looked at each other. Their names were Kay and Gerda.
In summer they could be together with one jump from the window, but in
winter they had to go up and down the long staircase, and out
through the snow before they could meet.
"See there are the white bees swarming," said Kay's old
grandmother one day when it was snowing.
"Have they a queen bee?" asked the little boy, for he knew that
the real bees had a queen.
"To be sure they have," said the grandmother. "She is flying there
where the swarm is thickest. She is the largest of them all, and never
remains on the earth, but flies up to the dark clouds. Often at
midnight she flies through the streets of the town, and looks in at
the windows, then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderful
shapes, that look like flowers and castles."
"Yes, I have seen them," said both the children, and they knew
it must be true.
"Can the Snow Queen come in here?" asked the little girl.
"Only let her come," said the boy, "I'll set her on the stove
and then she'll melt."
Then the grandmother smoothed his hair and told him some more
tales. One evening, when little Kay was at home, half undressed, he
climbed on a chair by the window and peeped out through the little
hole. A few flakes of snow were falling, and one of them, rather
larger than the rest, alighted on the edge of one of the flower boxes.
This snow-flake grew larger and larger, till at last it became the
figure of a woman, dressed in garments of white gauze, which looked
like millions of starry snow-flakes linked together. She was fair
and beautiful, but made of ice- shining and glittering ice. Still
she was alive and her eyes sparkled like bright stars, but there was
neither peace nor rest in their glance. She nodded towards the
window and waved her hand. The little boy was frightened and sprang
from the chair; at the same moment it seemed as if a large bird flew
by the window. On the following day there was a clear frost, and
very soon came the spring. The sun shone; the young green leaves burst
forth; the swallows built their nests; windows were opened, and the
children sat once more in the garden on the roof, high above all the
other rooms. How beautiful the roses blossomed this summer. The little
girl had learnt a hymn in which roses were spoken of, and then she
thought of their own roses, and she sang the hymn to the little boy,
and he sang too:-
"Roses bloom and cease to be,
But we shall the Christ-child see."
Then the little ones held each other by the hand, and kissed the
roses, and looked at the bright sunshine, and spoke to it as if the
Christ-child were there. Those were splendid summer days. How
beautiful and fresh it was out among the rose-bushes, which seemed
as if they would never leave off blooming. One day Kay and Gerda sat
looking at a book full of pictures of animals and birds, and