The Pink Fairy Book. Lang Andrew

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      She was so beautiful and dainty, but all of ice, hard bright ice.

      Still she was alive; her eyes glittered like two clear stars, but there was no rest or peace in them. She nodded at the window, and beckoned with her hand. The little boy was frightened, and sprang down from the chair. It seemed as if a great white bird had flown past the window.

      The next day there was a harder frost than before.

      Then came the spring, then the summer, when the roses grew and smelt more beautifully than ever.

      Kay and Gerda were looking at one of their picture-books – the clock in the great church-tower had just struck five, when Kay exclaimed, ‘Oh! something has stung my heart, and I’ve got something in my eye!’

      The little girl threw her arms round his neck; he winked hard with both his eyes; no, she could see nothing in them.

      ‘I think it is gone now,’ said he; but it had not gone. It was one of the tiny splinters of the glass of the magic mirror which we have heard about, that turned everything great and good reflected in it small and ugly. And poor Kay had also a splinter in his heart, and it began to change into a lump of ice. It did not hurt him at all, but the splinter was there all the same.

      ‘Why are you crying?’ he asked; ‘it makes you look so ugly! There’s nothing the matter with me. Just look! that rose is all slug-eaten, and this one is stunted! What ugly roses they are!’

      And he began to pull them to pieces.

      ‘Kay, what are you doing?’ cried the little girl.

      And when he saw how frightened she was, he pulled off another rose, and ran in at his window away from dear little Gerda.

      When she came later on with the picture book, he said that it was only fit for babies, and when his grandmother told them stories, he was always interrupting with, ‘But – ’ and then he would get behind her and put on her spectacles, and speak just as she did. This he did very well, and everybody laughed. Very soon he could imitate the way all the people in the street walked and talked.

      His games were now quite different. On a winter’s day he would take a burning glass and hold it out on his blue coat and let the snow-flakes fall on it.

      ‘Look in the glass, Gerda! Just see how regular they are! They are much more interesting than real flowers. Each is perfect; they are all made according to rule. If only they did not melt!’

      One morning Kay came out with his warm gloves on, and his little sledge hung over his shoulder. He shouted to Gerda, ‘I am going to the market-place to play with the other boys,’ and away he went.

      In the market-place the boldest boys used often to fasten their sledges to the carts of the farmers, and then they got a good ride.

      When they were in the middle of their games there drove into the square a large sledge, all white, and in it sat a figure dressed in a rough white fur pelisse with a white fur cap on.

      The sledge drove twice round the square, and Kay fastened his little sledge behind it and drove off. It went quicker and quicker into the next street. The driver turned round, and nodded to Kay ina friendly way as if they had known each other before. Every time that Kay tried to unfasten his sledge the driver nodded again, and Kay sat still once more. Then they drove out of the town, and the snow began to fall so thickly that the little boy could not see his hand before him, and on and on they went. He quickly unfastened the cord to get loose from the big sledge, but it was of no use; his little sledge hung on fast, and it went on like the wind.

      Then he cried out, but nobody heard him. He was dreadfully frightened.

      The snowflakes grew larger and larger till they looked like great white birds. All at once they flew aside, the large sledge stood still, and the figure who was driving stood up. The fur cloak and cap were all of snow. It was a lady, tall and slim, and glittering. It was the Snow-queen.

      ‘We have come at a good rate,’ she said; ‘but you are almost frozen. Creep in under my cloak.’

      And she set him close to her in the sledge and drew the cloak over him. He felt as though he were sinking into a snow-drift.

      ‘Are you cold now?’ she asked, and kissed his forehead. The kiss was cold as ice and reached down to his heart, which was already half a lump of ice.

      ‘My sledge! Don’t forget my sledge!’ He thought of that first, and it was fastened to one of the great white birds who flew behind with the sledge on its back.

      The Snow-queen kissed Kay again, and then he forgot all about little Gerda, his grandmother, and everybody at home.

      ‘Now I must not kiss you any more,’ she said, ‘or else I should kiss you to death.’

      Then away they flew over forests and lakes, over sea and land. Round them whistled the cold wind, the wolves howled, and the snow hissed; over them flew the black shrieking crows. But high up the moon shone large and bright, and thus Kay passed the long winter night. In the day he slept at the Snow-queen’s feet.

      But what happened to little Gerda when Kay did not come back?

      What had become of him? Nobody knew. The other boys told how they had seen him fasten his sledge on to a large one which had driven out of the town gate.

      Gerda cried a great deal. The winter was long and dark to her.

      Then the spring came with warm sunshine. ‘I will go and look for Kay,’ said Gerda.

      So she went down to the river and got into a little boat that was there. Presently the stream began to carry it away.

      ‘Perhaps the river will take me to Kay,’ thought Gerda. She glided down, past trees and fields, till she came to a large cherry garden, in which stood a little house with strange red and blue windows and a straw roof. Before the door stood two wooden soldiers, who were shouldering arms.

      Gerda called to them, but they naturally did not answer. The river carried the boat on to the land.

      Gerda called out still louder, and there came out of the house a very old woman. She leant upon a crutch, and she wore a large sun-hat which was painted with the most beautiful flowers.

      ‘You poor little girl!’ said the old woman.

      And then she stepped into the water, brought the boat in close with her crutch, and lifted little Gerda out.

      ‘And now come and tell me who you are, and how you came here,’ she said.

      Then Gerda told her everything, and asked her if she had seen Kay. But she said he had not passed that way yet, but he would soon come.

      She told Gerda not to be sad, and that she should stay with her and take of the cherry trees and flowers, which were better than any picture-bok, as they could each tell a story.

      She then took Gerda’s hand and led her into the little house and shut the door.

      The windows were very high, and the panes were red, blue, and yellow, so that the light came through in curious colours. On the table were the most delicious cherries, and the old woman let Gerda eat as many as she liked, while she combed her hair with a gold comb as she ate.

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