No More Learning

"You have become proud since your fall broke you to pieces,"
said Major-general-field-sergeant-commander Billy-goat's-legs. "You
have no reason to give yourself such airs. Am I to have her or not? "

The chimney-sweep and the little shepherdess looked piteously at
the old Chinaman, for they were afraid he might nod; but he was not
able: besides, it was so tiresome to be always telling strangers he
had a rivet in the back of his neck.

And so the little china people remained together, and were glad of
the grandfather's rivet, and continued to love each other till they
were broken to pieces.




THE SILVER SHILLING

There was once a shilling, which came forth from the mint
springing and shouting, "Hurrah! now I am going out into the wide
world. " And truly it did go out into the wide world. The children held
it with warm hands, the miser with a cold and convulsive grasp, and
the old people turned it about, goodness knows how many times, while
the young people soon allowed it to roll away from them. The
shilling was made of silver, it contained very little copper, and
considered itself quite out in the world when it had been circulated
for a year in the country in which it had been coined. One day, it
really did go out into the world, for it belonged to a gentleman who
was about to travel in foreign lands. This gentleman was not aware
that the shilling lay at the bottom of his purse when he started, till
he one day found it between his fingers. "Why," cried he, "here is a
shilling from home; well, it must go on its travels with me now! "
and the shilling jumped and rattled for joy, when it was put back
again into the purse.

Here it lay among a number of foreign companions, who were
always coming and going, one taking the place of another, but the
shilling from home was always put back, and had to remain in the
purse, which was certainly a mark of distinction. Many weeks passed,
during which the shilling had travelled a long distance in the
purse, without in the least knowing where he was. He had found out
that the other coins were French and Italian; and one coin said they
were in this town, and another said they were in that, but the
shilling was unable to make out or imagine what they meant. A man
certainly cannot see much of the world if he is tied up in a bag,
and this was really the shilling's fate. But one day, as he was
lying in the purse, he noticed that it was not quite closed, and so he
slipped near to the opening to have a little peep into society. He
certainly had not the least idea of what would follow, but he was
curious, and curiosity often brings its own punishment. In his
eagerness, he came so near the edge of the purse that he slipped out
into the pocket of the trousers; and when, in the evening, the purse
was taken out, the shilling was left behind in the corner to which
it had fallen. As the clothes were being carried into the hall, the
shilling fell out on the floor, unheard and unnoticed by any one.
The next morning the clothes were taken back to the room, the
gentleman put them on, and started on his journey again; but the
shilling remained behind on the floor. After a time it was found,
and being considered a good coin, was placed with three other coins.
"Ah," thought the shilling, "this is pleasant; I shall now see the
world, become acquainted with other people, and learn other customs. "

"Do you call that a shilling? " said some one the next moment.
"That is not a genuine coin of the country,--it is false; it is good
for nothing. "

Now begins the story as it was afterwards related by the
shilling himself.

"'False! good for nothing! ' said he. That remark went through
and through me like a dagger. I knew that I had a true ring, and
that mine was a genuine stamp. These people must at all events be
wrong, or they could not mean me. But yes, I was the one they called
'false, and good for nothing. '

"'Then I must pay it away in the dark,' said the man who had
received me. So I was to be got rid of in the darkness, and be again
insulted in broad daylight.

"'False! good for nothing! ' Oh, I must contrive to get lost,
thought I. And I trembled between the fingers of the people every time
they tried to pass me off slyly as a coin of the country. Ah!
unhappy shilling that I was! Of what use were my silver, my stamp, and
my real value here, where all these qualities were worthless. In the
eyes of the world, a man is valued just according to the opinion
formed of him. It must be a shocking thing to have a guilty
conscience, and to be sneaking about on account of wicked deeds. As
for me, innocent as I was, I could not help shuddering before their
eyes whenever they brought me out, for I knew I should be thrown
back again up the table as a false pretender. At length I was paid
away to a poor old woman, who received me as wages for a hard day's
work. But she could not again get rid of me; no one would take me. I
was to the woman a most unlucky shilling. 'I am positively obliged
to pass this shilling to somebody,' said she; 'I cannot, with the best
intentions, lay by a bad shilling. The rich baker shall have it,--he
can bear the loss better than I can. But, after all, it is not a right
thing to do. '

"'Ah! ' sighed I to myself, 'am I also to be a burden on the
conscience of this poor woman? Am I then in my old days so
completely changed? ' The woman offered me to the rich baker, but he
knew the current money too well, and as soon as he received me he
threw me almost in the woman's face. She could get no bread for me,
and I felt quite grieved to the heart that I should be cause of so
much trouble to another, and be treated as a cast-off coin. I who,
in my young days, felt so joyful in the certainty of my own value, and
knew so well that I bore a genuine stamp. I was as sorrowful now as
a poor shilling can be when nobody will have him. The woman took me
home again with her, and looking at me very earnestly, she said,
'No, I will not try to deceive any one with thee again. I will bore
a hole through thee, that everyone may know that thou art a false
and worthless thing; and yet, why should I do that? Very likely thou
art a lucky shilling. A thought has just struck me that it is so,
and I believe it. Yes, I will make a hole in the shilling,' said
she, 'and run a string through it, and then give it to my neighbor's
little one to hang round her neck, as a lucky shilling. ' So she
drilled a hole through me.

"It is really not at all pleasant to have a hole bored through
one, but we can submit to a great deal when it is done with a good
intention. A string was drawn through the hole, and I became a kind of
medal. They hung me round the neck of a little child, and the child
laughed at me and kissed me, and I rested for one whole night on the
warm, innocent breast of a child.

"In the morning the child's mother took me between her fingers,
and had certain thoughts about me, which I very soon found out. First,
she looked for a pair of scissors, and cut the string.

"'Lucky shilling! ' said she, 'certainly this is what I mean to
try. ' Then she laid me in vinegar till I became quite green, and after
that she filled up the hole with cement, rubbed me a little to
brighten me up, and went out in the twilight hour to the lottery
collector, to buy herself a ticket, with a shilling that should
bring luck. How everything seemed to cause me trouble. The lottery
collector pressed me so hard that I thought I should crack. I had been
called false, I had been thrown away,--that I knew; and there were
many shillings and coins with inscriptions and stamps of all kinds
lying about. I well knew how proud they were, so I avoided them from
very shame. With the collector were several men who seemed to have a
great deal to do, so I fell unnoticed into a chest, among several
other coins.

"Whether the lottery ticket gained a prize, I know not; but this I
know, that in a very few days after, I was recognized as a bad
shilling, and laid aside. Everything that happened seemed always to
add to my sorrow. Even if a man has a good character, it is of no
use for him to deny what is said of him, for he is not considered an
impartial judge of himself.

"A year passed, and in this way I had been changed from hand to
hand; always abused, always looked at with displeasure, and trusted by
no one; but I trusted in myself, and had no confidence in the world.
Yes, that was a very dark time.

"At length one day I was passed to a traveller, a foreigner, the
very same who had brought me away from home; and he was simple and
true-hearted enough to take me for current coin. But would he also
attempt to pass me? and should I again hear the outcry, 'False!
good-for-nothing! ' The traveller examined me attentively, 'I took thee
for good coin,' said he; then suddenly a smile spread all over his
face. I have never seen such a smile on any other face as on his. 'Now
this is singular,' said he, 'it is a coin from my own country; a good,
true, shilling from home. Some one has bored a hole through it, and
people have no doubt called it false. How curious that it should
come into my hands. I will take it home with me to my own house. '

"Joy thrilled through me when I heard this. I had been once more
called a good, honest shilling, and I was to go back to my own home,
where each and all would recognize me, and know that I was made of
good silver, and bore a true, genuine stamp. I should have been glad
in my joy to throw out sparks of fire, but it has never at any time
been my nature to sparkle. Steel can do so, but not silver. I was
wrapped up in fine, white paper, that I might not mix with the other
coins and be lost; and on special occasions, when people from my own
country happened to be present, I was brought forward and spoken of
very kindly. They said I was very interesting, and it was really quite
worth while to notice that those who are interesting have often not
a single word to say for themselves.

"At length I reached home. All my cares were at an end. Joy
again overwhelmed me; for was I not good silver, and had I not a
genuine stamp? I had no more insults or disappointments to endure;
although, indeed, there was a hole through me, as if I were false; but
suspicions are nothing when a man is really true, and every one should
persevere in acting honestly, for an will be made right in time.
That is my firm belief," said the shilling.




THE SHIRT-COLLAR

There was once a fine gentleman who possessed among other things a
boot-jack and a hair-brush; but he had also the finest shirt-collar in
the world, and of this collar we are about to hear a story. The collar
had become so old that he began to think about getting married; and
one day he happened to find himself in the same washing-tub as a
garter. "Upon my word," said the shirt-collar, "I have never seen
anything so slim and delicate, so neat and soft before. May I
venture to ask your name? "

"I shall not tell you," replied the garter.

"Where do you reside when you are at home? " asked the
shirt-collar. But the garter was naturally shy, and did not know how
to answer such a question.

"I presume you are a girdle," said the shirt-collar, "a sort of
under girdle. I see that you are useful, as well as ornamental, my
little lady. "

"You must not speak to me," said the garter; "I do not think I
have given you any encouragement to do so. "

"Oh, when any one is as beautiful as you are," said the
shirt-collar, "is not that encouragement enough? "

"Get away; don't come so near me," said the garter, "you appear to
me quite like a man. "

"I am a fine gentleman certainly," said the shirt-collar, "I
possess a boot-jack and a hair-brush. " This was not true, for these
things belonged to his master; but he was a boaster.

"Don't come so near me," said the garter; "I am not accustomed
to it. "

"Affectation! " said the shirt-collar.

Then they were taken out of the wash-tub, starched, and hung
over a chair in the sunshine, and then laid on the ironing-board.
And now came the glowing iron. "Mistress widow," said the
shirt-collar, "little mistress widow, I feel quite warm. I am
changing, I am losing all my creases. You are burning a hole in me.
Ugh! I propose to you. "

"You old rag," said the flat-iron, driving proudly over the
collar, for she fancied herself a steam-engine, which rolls over the
railway and draws carriages. "You old rag! " said she.

The edges of the shirt-collar were a little frayed, so the
scissors were brought to cut them smooth. "Oh! " exclaimed the
shirt-collar, "what a first-rate dancer you would make; you can
stretch out your leg so well. I never saw anything so charming; I am
sure no human being could do the same. "

"I should think not," replied the scissors.

"You ought to be a countess," said the shirt collar; "but all I
possess consists of a fine gentleman, a boot-jack, and a comb. I
wish I had an estate for your sake. "

"What! is he going to propose to me? " said the scissors, and she
became so angry that she cut too sharply into the shirt collar, and it
was obliged to be thrown by as useless.

"I shall be obliged to propose to the hair-brush," thought the
shirt collar; so he remarked one day, "It is wonderful what
beautiful hair you have, my little lady. Have you never thought of
being engaged? "

"You might know I should think of it," answered the hair brush; "I
am engaged to the boot-jack. "

"Engaged! " cried the shirt collar, "now there is no one left to
propose to;" and then he pretended to despise all love-making.

A long time passed, and the shirt collar was taken in a bag to the
paper-mill. Here was a large company of rags, the fine ones lying by
themselves, separated from the coarser, as it ought to be. They had
all many things to relate, especially the shirt collar, who was a
terrible boaster. "I have had an immense number of love affairs," said
the shirt collar, "no one left me any peace. It is true I was a very
fine gentleman; quite stuck up. I had a boot-jack and a brush that I
never used. You should have seen me then, when I was turned down. I
shall never forget my first love; she was a girdle, so charming, and
fine, and soft, and she threw herself into a washing tub for my
sake. There was a widow too, who was warmly in love with me, but I
left her alone, and she became quite black. The next was a
first-rate dancer; she gave me the wound from which I still suffer,
she was so passionate. Even my own hair-brush was in love with me, and
lost all her hair through neglected love. Yes, I have had great
experience of this kind, but my greatest grief was for the garter--the
girdle I meant to say--that jumped into the wash-tub. I have a great
deal on my conscience, and it is really time I should be turned into
white paper. "

And the shirt collar came to this at last. All the rags were
made into white paper, and the shirt collar became the very
identical piece of paper which we now see, and on which this story
is printed. It happened as a punishment to him, for having boasted
so shockingly of things which were not true. And this is a warning
to us, to be careful how we act, for we may some day find ourselves in
the rag-bag, to be turned into white paper, on which our whole history
may be written, even its most secret actions. And it would not be
pleasant to have to run about the world in the form of a piece of
paper, telling everything we have done, like the boasting shirt
collar.




THE SNOW MAN

"It is so delightfully cold," said the Snow Man, "that it makes my
whole body crackle. This is just the kind of wind to blow life into
one. How that great red thing up there is staring at me! " He meant the
sun, who was just setting. "It shall not make me wink. I shall
manage to keep the pieces. "

He had two triangular pieces of tile in his head, instead of eyes;
his mouth was made of an old broken rake, and was, of course,
furnished with teeth. He had been brought into existence amidst the
joyous shouts of boys, the jingling of sleigh-bells, and the
slashing of whips. The sun went down, and the full moon rose, large,
round, and clear, shining in the deep blue.

"There it comes again, from the other side," said the Snow Man,
who supposed the sun was showing himself once more. "Ah, I have
cured him of staring, though; now he may hang up there, and shine,
that I may see myself. If I only knew how to manage to move away
from this place,--I should so like to move. If I could, I would
slide along yonder on the ice, as I have seen the boys do; but I don't
understand how; I don't even know how to run. "

"Away, away," barked the old yard-dog. He was quite hoarse, and
could not pronounce "Bow wow" properly. He had once been an indoor
dog, and lay by the fire, and he had been hoarse ever since. "The
sun will make you run some day. I saw him, last winter, make your
predecessor run, and his predecessor before him. Away, away, they
all have to go. "

"I don't understand you, comrade," said the Snow Man. "Is that
thing up yonder to teach me to run? I saw it running itself a little
while ago, and now it has come creeping up from the other side.

"You know nothing at all," replied the yard-dog; "but then, you've
only lately been patched up. What you see yonder is the moon, and
the one before it was the sun. It will come again to-morrow, and
most likely teach you to run down into the ditch by the well; for I
think the weather is going to change. I can feel such pricks and stabs
in my left leg; I am sure there is going to be a change. "

"I don't understand him," said the Snow Man to himself; "but I
have a feeling that he is talking of something very disagreeable.
The one who stared so just now, and whom he calls the sun, is not my
friend; I can feel that too. "

"Away, away," barked the yard-dog, and then he turned round
three times, and crept into his kennel to sleep.

There was really a change in the weather. Towards morning, a thick
fog covered the whole country round, and a keen wind arose, so that
the cold seemed to freeze one's bones; but when the sun rose, the
sight was splendid. Trees and bushes were covered with hoar frost, and
looked like a forest of white coral; while on every twig glittered
frozen dew-drops. The many delicate forms concealed in summer by
luxuriant foliage, were now clearly defined, and looked like
glittering lace-work.
From every twig glistened a white radiance.
The birch, waving in the wind, looked full of life, like trees in
summer; and its appearance was wondrously beautiful. And where the sun
shone, how everything glittered and sparkled, as if diamond dust had
been strewn about; while the snowy carpet of the earth appeared as
if covered with diamonds, from which countless lights gleamed,
whiter than even the snow itself.

"This is really beautiful," said a young girl, who had come into
the garden with a young man; and they both stood still near the Snow
Man, and contemplated the glittering scene. "Summer cannot show a more
beautiful sight," she exclaimed, while her eyes sparkled.

"And we can't have such a fellow as this in the summer time,"
replied the young man, pointing to the Snow Man; "he is capital. "

The girl laughed, and nodded at the Snow Man, and then tripped
away over the snow with her friend. The snow creaked and crackled
beneath her feet, as if she had been treading on starch.

"Who are these two? " asked the Snow Man of the yard-dog. "You have
been here longer than I have; do you know them? "

"Of course I know them," replied the yard-dog; "she has stroked my
back many times, and he has given me a bone of meat. I never bite
those two. "

"But what are they? " asked the Snow Man.

"They are lovers," he replied; "they will go and live in the
same kennel by-and-by, and gnaw at the same bone. Away, away! "

"Are they the same kind of beings as you and I? " asked the Snow
Man.

"Well, they belong to the same master," retorted the yard-dog.
"Certainly people who were only born yesterday know very little. I can
see that in you. I have age and experience. I know every one here in
the house, and I know there was once a time when I did not lie out
here in the cold, fastened to a chain. Away, away! "

"The cold is delightful," said the Snow Man; "but do tell me
tell me; only you must not clank your chain so; for it jars all
through me when you do that. "

"Away, away! " barked the yard-dog; "I'll tell you; they said I was
a pretty little fellow once; then I used to lie in a velvet-covered
chair, up at the master's house, and sit in the mistress's lap. They
used to kiss my nose, and wipe my paws with an embroidered
handkerchief, and I was called 'Ami, dear Ami, sweet Ami. ' But after a
while I grew too big for them, and they sent me away to the
housekeeper's room; so I came to live on the lower story. You can look
into the room from where you stand, and see where I was master once;
for I was indeed master to the housekeeper. It was certainly a smaller
room than those up stairs; but I was more comfortable; for I was not
being continually taken hold of and pulled about by the children as
I had been. I received quite as good food, or even better. I had my
own cushion, and there was a stove--it is the finest thing in the
world at this season of the year. I used to go under the stove, and
lie down quite beneath it. Ah, I still dream of that stove. Away,
away! "

"Does a stove look beautiful? " asked the Snow Man, "is it at all
like me? "

"It is just the reverse of you," said the dog; "it's as black as a
crow, and has a long neck and a brass knob; it eats firewood, so
that fire spurts out of its mouth. We should keep on one side, or
under it, to be comfortable. You can see it through the window, from
where you stand. "

Then the Snow Man looked, and saw a bright polished thing with a
brazen knob, and fire gleaming from the lower part of it. The Snow Man
felt quite a strange sensation come over him; it was very odd, he knew
not what it meant, and he could not account for it. But there are
people who are not men of snow, who understand what it is. "'And why
did you leave her? " asked the Snow Man, for it seemed to him that
the stove must be of the female sex. "How could you give up such a
comfortable place? "

"I was obliged," replied the yard-dog. "They turned me out of
doors, and chained me up here. I had bitten the youngest of my
master's sons in the leg, because he kicked away the bone I was
gnawing. 'Bone for bone,' I thought; but they were so angry, and
from that time I have been fastened with a chain, and lost my bone.
Don't you hear how hoarse I am. Away, away! I can't talk any more like
other dogs. Away, away, that is the end of it all. "

But the Snow Man was no longer listening. He was looking into
the housekeeper's room on the lower storey; where the stove stood on
its four iron legs, looking about the same size as the Snow Man
himself. "What a strange crackling I feel within me," he said.
"Shall I ever get in there? It is an innocent wish, and innocent
wishes are sure to be fulfilled. I must go in there and lean against
her, even if I have to break the window. "

"You must never go in there," said the yard-dog, "for if you
approach the stove, you'll melt away, away. "

"I might as well go," said the Snow Man, "for I think I am
breaking up as it is. "

During the whole day the Snow Man stood looking in through the
window, and in the twilight hour the room became still more
inviting, for from the stove came a gentle glow, not like the sun or
the moon; no, only the bright light which gleams from a stove when
it has been well fed. When the door of the stove was opened, the
flames darted out of its mouth; this is customary with all stoves. The
light of the flames fell directly on the face and breast of the Snow
Man with a ruddy gleam. "I can endure it no longer," said he; "how
beautiful it looks when it stretches out its tongue? "

The night was long, but did not appear so to the Snow Man, who
stood there enjoying his own reflections, and crackling with the cold.
In the morning, the window-panes of the housekeeper's room were
covered with ice. They were the most beautiful ice-flowers any Snow
Man could desire, but they concealed the stove. These window-panes
would not thaw, and he could see nothing of the stove, which he
pictured to himself, as if it had been a lovely human being. The
snow crackled and the wind whistled around him; it was just the kind
of frosty weather a Snow Man might thoroughly enjoy. But he did not
enjoy it; how, indeed, could he enjoy anything when he was "stove
sick? "

"That is terrible disease for a Snow Man," said the yard-dog; "I
have suffered from it myself, but I got over it. Away, away," he
barked and then he added, "the weather is going to change. " And the
weather did change; it began to thaw. As the warmth increased, the
Snow Man decreased. He said nothing and made no complaint, which is
a sure sign. One morning he broke, and sunk down altogether; and,
behold, where he had stood, something like a broomstick remained
sticking up in the ground. It was the pole round which the boys had
built him up. "Ah, now I understand why he had such a great longing
for the stove," said the yard-dog. "Why, there's the shovel that is
used for cleaning out the stove, fastened to the pole. " The Snow Man
had a stove scraper in his body; that was what moved him so. "But it's
all over now. Away, away. " And soon the winter passed. "Away, away,"
barked the hoarse yard-dog. But the girls in the house sang,

"Come from your fragrant home, green thyme;
Stretch your soft branches, willow-tree;
The months are bringing the sweet spring-time,
When the lark in the sky sings joyfully.
Come gentle sun, while the cuckoo sings,
And I'll mock his note in my wanderings. "


And nobody thought any more of the Snow Man.




THE SNOW QUEEN

IN SEVEN STORIES


STORY THE FIRST

Which describes a looking-glass and the broken fragments.

You must attend to the commencement of this story, for when we get
to the end we shall know more than we do now about a very wicked
hobgoblin; he was one of the very worst, for he was a real demon.
One day, when he was in a merry mood, he made a looking-glass which
had the power of making everything good or beautiful that was
reflected in it almost shrink to nothing, while everything that was
worthless and bad looked increased in size and worse than ever. The
most lovely landscapes appeared like boiled spinach, and the people
became hideous, and looked as if they stood on their heads and had
no bodies. Their countenances were so distorted that no one could
recognize them, and even one freckle on the face appeared to spread
over the whole of the nose and mouth. The demon said this was very
amusing. When a good or pious thought passed through the mind of any
one it was misrepresented in the glass; and then how the demon laughed
at his cunning invention. All who went to the demon's school--for he
kept a school--talked everywhere of the wonders they had seen, and
declared that people could now, for the first time, see what the world
and mankind were really like. They carried the glass about everywhere,
till at last there was not a land nor a people who had not been looked
at through this distorted mirror. They wanted even to fly with it up
to heaven to see the angels, but the higher they flew the more
slippery the glass became, and they could scarcely hold it, till at
last it slipped from their hands, fell to the earth, and was broken
into millions of pieces. But now the looking-glass caused more
unhappiness than ever, for some of the fragments were not so large
as a grain of sand, and they flew about the world into every
country. When one of these tiny atoms flew into a person's eye, it
stuck there unknown to him, and from that moment he saw everything
through a distorted medium, or could see only the worst side of what
he looked at, for even the smallest fragment retained the same power
which had belonged to the whole mirror. Some few persons even got a
fragment of the looking-glass in their hearts, and this was very
terrible, for their hearts became cold like a lump of ice. A few of
the pieces were so large that they could be used as window-panes; it
would have been a sad thing to look at our friends through them. Other
pieces were made into spectacles; this was dreadful for those who wore
them, for they could see nothing either rightly or justly. At all this
the wicked demon laughed till his sides shook--it tickled him so to
see the mischief he had done. There were still a number of these
little fragments of glass floating about in the air, and now you shall
hear what happened with one of them.


SECOND STORY

A LITTLE BOY AND A LITTLE GIRL


In a large town, full of houses and people, there is not room
for everybody to have even a little garden, therefore they are obliged
to be satisfied with a few flowers in flower-pots. In one of these
large towns lived two poor children who had a garden something
larger and better than a few flower-pots. They were not brother and
sister, but they loved each other almost as much as if they had
been. Their parents lived opposite to each other in two garrets, where
the roofs of neighboring houses projected out towards each other and
the water-pipe ran between them. In each house was a little window, so
that any one could step across the gutter from one window to the
other. The parents of these children had each a large wooden box in
which they cultivated kitchen 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 then just
as the clock in the church tower struck twelve, Kay said, "Oh,
something has struck my heart! " and soon after, "There is something in
my eye. "

The little girl put her arm round his neck, and looked into his
eye, but she could see nothing.

"I think it is gone," he said. But it was not gone; it was one
of those bits of the looking-glass--that magic mirror, of which we
have spoken--the ugly glass which made everything great and good
appear small and ugly, while all that was wicked and bad became more
visible, and every little fault could be plainly seen. Poor little Kay
had also received a small grain in his heart, which very quickly
turned to a lump of ice. He felt no more pain, but the glass was there
still. "Why do you cry? " said he at last; "it makes you look ugly.
There is nothing the matter with me now. Oh, see! " he cried
suddenly, "that rose is worm-eaten, and this one is quite crooked.
After all they are ugly roses, just like the box in which they stand,"
and then he kicked the boxes with his foot, and pulled off the two
roses.

"Kay, what are you doing? " cried the little girl; and then, when
he saw how frightened she was, he tore off another rose, and jumped
through his own window away from little Gerda.

When she afterwards brought out the picture book, he said, "It was
only fit for babies in long clothes," and when grandmother told any
stories, he would interrupt her with "but;" or, when he could manage
it, he would get behind her chair, put on a pair of spectacles, and
imitate her very cleverly, to make people laugh. By-and-by he began to
mimic the speech and gait of persons in the street. All that was
peculiar or disagreeable in a person he would imitate directly, and
people said, "That boy will be very clever; he has a remarkable
genius. " But it was the piece of glass in his eye, and the coldness in
his heart, that made him act like this. He would even tease little
Gerda, who loved him with all her heart. His games, too, were quite
different; they were not so childish. One winter's day, when it
snowed, he brought out a burning-glass, then he held out the tail of
his blue coat, and let the snow-flakes fall upon it. "Look in this
glass, Gerda," said he; and she saw how every flake of snow was
magnified, and looked like a beautiful flower or a glittering star.
"Is it not clever? " said Kay, "and much more interesting than
looking at real flowers. There is not a single fault in it, and the
snow-flakes are quite perfect till they begin to melt. "

Soon after Kay made his appearance in large thick gloves, and with
his sledge at his back. He called up stairs to Gerda, "I've got to
leave to go into the great square, where the other boys play and
ride. " And away he went.

In the great square, the boldest among the boys would often tie
their sledges to the country people's carts, and go with them a good
way. This was capital. But while they were all amusing themselves, and
Kay with them, a great sledge came by; it was painted white, and in it
sat some one wrapped in a rough white fur, and wearing a white cap.
The sledge drove twice round the square, and Kay fastened his own
little sledge to it, so that when it went away, he followed with it.
It went faster and faster right through the next street, and then
the person who drove turned round and nodded pleasantly to Kay, just
as if they were acquainted with each other, but whenever Kay wished to
loosen his little sledge the driver nodded again, so Kay sat still,
and they drove out through the town gate. Then the snow began to
fall so heavily that the little boy could not see a hand's breadth
before him, but still they drove on; then he suddenly loosened the
cord so that the large sled might go on without him, but it was of
no use, his little carriage held fast, and away they went like the
wind. Then he called out loudly, but nobody heard him, while the
snow beat upon him, and the sledge flew onwards. Every now and then it
gave a jump as if it were going over hedges and ditches. The boy was
frightened, and tried to say a prayer, but he could remember nothing
but the multiplication table.

The snow-flakes became larger and larger, till they appeared
like great white chickens. All at once they sprang on one side, the
great sledge stopped, and the person who had driven it rose up. The
fur and the cap, which were made entirely of snow, fell off, and he
saw a lady, tall and white, it was the Snow Queen.

"We have driven well," said she, "but why do you tremble? here,
creep into my warm fur. " Then she seated him beside her in the sledge,
and as she wrapped the fur round him he felt as if he were sinking
into a snow drift.

"Are you still cold," she asked, as she kissed him on the
forehead. The kiss was colder than ice; it went quite through to his
heart, which was already almost a lump of ice; he felt as if he were
going to die, but only for a moment; he soon seemed quite well
again, and did not notice the cold around him.

"My sledge! don't forget my sledge," was his first thought, and
then he looked and saw that it was bound fast to one of the white
chickens, which flew behind him with the sledge at its back. The
Snow Queen kissed little Kay again, and by this time he had
forgotten little Gerda, his grandmother, and all at home.

"Now you must have no more kisses," she said, "or I should kiss
you to death. "

Kay looked at her, and saw that she was so beautiful, he could not
imagine a more lovely and intelligent face; she did not now seem to be
made of ice, as when he had seen her through his window, and she had
nodded to him. In his eyes she was perfect, and she did not feel at
all afraid. He told her he could do mental arithmetic, as far as
fractions, and that he knew the number of square miles and the
number of inhabitants in the country. And she always smiled so that he
thought he did not know enough yet, and she looked round the vast
expanse as she flew higher and higher with him upon a black cloud,
while the storm blew and howled as if it were singing old songs.