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opposite. They inhabited two garrets; and where the roof of the one house joined that of the other, and the
gutter ran along the extreme end of it, there was to each house a small window: one needed only to step over
the gutter to get from one window to the other.
The children's parents had large wooden boxes there, in which vegetables for the kitchen were planted, and
little rosetrees besides: there was a rose in each box, and they grew splendidly. They now thought of placing
the boxes across the gutter, so that they nearly reached from one window to the other, and looked just like two
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walls of flowers. The tendrils of the peas hung down over the boxes; and the rose-trees shot up long branches,
twined round the windows, and then bent towards each other: it was almost like a triumphant arch of foliage
and flowers. The boxes were very high, and the children knew that they must not creep over them; so they
often obtained permission to get out of the windows to each other, and to sit on their little stools among the
roses, where they could play delightfully. In winter there was an end of this pleasure. The windows were often
frozen over; but then they heated copper farthings on the stove, and laid the hot farthing on the windowpane,
and then they had a capital peep-hole, quite nicely rounded; and out of each peeped a gentle friendly eye--it
was the little boy and the little girl who were looking out. His name was Kay, hers was Gerda. In summer,
with one jump, they could get to each other; but in winter they were obliged first to go down the long stairs,
and then up the long stairs again: and out-of-doors there was quite a snow-storm.
"It is the white bees that are swarming," said Kay's old grandmother.
"Do the white bees choose a queen?" asked the little boy; for he knew that the honey-bees always have one.
"Yes," said the grandmother, "she flies where the swarm hangs in the thickest clusters. She is the largest of
all; and she can never remain quietly on the earth, but goes up again into the black clouds. Many a winter's
night she flies through the streets of the town, and peeps in at the windows; and they then freeze in so
wondrous a manner that they look like flowers."
"Yes, I have seen it," said both the children; and so they knew that it was true.
"Can the Snow Queen come in?" said the little girl.
"Only let her come in!" said the little boy. "Then I'd put her on the stove, and she'd melt."
And then his grandmother patted his head and told him other stories.
In the evening, when little Kay was at home, and half undressed, he climbed up on the chair by the window,
and peeped out of the little hole. A few snow-flakes were falling, and one, the largest of all, remained lying
on the edge of a flower-pot.
The flake of snow grew larger and larger; and at last it was like a young lady, dressed in the finest white
gauze, made of a million little flakes like stars. She was so beautiful and delicate, but she was of ice, of
dazzling, sparkling ice; yet she lived; her eyes gazed fixedly, like two stars; but there was neither quiet nor
repose in them. She nodded towards the window, and beckoned with her hand. The little boy was frightened,
and jumped down from the chair; it seemed to him as if, at the same moment, a large bird flew past the
window.
The next day it was a sharp frost--and then the spring came; the sun shone, the green leaves appeared, the
swallows built their nests, the windows were opened, and the little children again sat in their pretty garden,
high up on the leads at the top of the house.
That summer the roses flowered in unwonted beauty. The little girl had learned a hymn, in which there was
something about roses; and then she thought of her own flowers; and she sang the verse to the little boy, who
then sang it with her:
"The rose in the valley is blooming so sweet, And angels descend there the children to greet."
And the children held each other by the hand, kissed the roses, looked up at the clear sunshine, and spoke as
though they really saw angels there. What lovely summer-days those were! How delightful to be out in the
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air, near the fresh rose-bushes, that seem as if they would never finish blossoming!
Kay and Gerda looked at the picture-book full of beasts and of birds; and it was then--the clock in the
church-tower was just striking five--that Kay said, "Oh! I feel such a sharp pain in my heart; and now
something has got into my eye!"
The little girl put her arms around his neck. He winked his eyes; now there was nothing to be seen.
"I think it is out now," said he; but it was not. It was just one of those pieces of glass from the magic mirror
that had got into his eye; and poor Kay had got another piece right in his heart. It will soon become like ice. It
did not hurt any longer, but there it was.
"What are you crying for?" asked he. "You look so ugly! There's nothing the matter with me. Ah," said he at
once, "that rose is cankered! And look, this one is quite crooked! After all, these roses are very ugly! They are
just like the box they are planted in!" And then he gave the box a good kick with his foot, and pulled both the
roses up.
"What are you doing?" cried the little girl; and as he perceived her fright, he pulled up another rose, got in at
the window, and hastened off from dear little Gerda.
Afterwards, when she brought her picture-book, he asked, "What horrid beasts have you there?" And if his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]