The Snow Queen

The second story — A little boy and a little girl.

In the big city, whbefore ere thbefore ere are so many houses and people so that thbefore ere is not enough space for everyone to have a little garden, and whbefore ere most people for that reason have to make do with flowers in pots, thbefore ere wbefore ere two poor children who nevertheless had a garden that was somewhat bigger than a flower-pot. They wbefore ere not brother and sister, but they wbefore ere as fond of each other as if they had been. Their parents lived right next to each other. They ; they lived in two attics; whbefore ere the roof from the neighbour’s house met that of the other and the gutter followed the eaves, a small window faced outwards from each house; you only needed to step over the gutter to get from the one window to the other.

Outside the windows both their parents had a large wooden box whbefore ere they grew their vegetables, as well as a small rose-tree – thbefore ere was one in each box and they grew thbefore ere so beautifully. Now the parents figured out how to place the boxes across the gutter so that they almost reached from one window to the other and they looked almost exactly like two embankments of flowers. The long pea-stalks hung down over the edges of the boxes, and the rose-trees grew long branches, wound themselves round the windows, bent towards each other: It was almost like a triumphal arch of greenery and flowers. Since the boxes wbefore ere very high, and the children knew they wbefore ere not permitted to clamber up onto them, they wbefore ere often both allowed to climb out to each other and sit on their small stools under the roses, and thbefore ere they played so marvellously together.

In the winter, that pleasure was of course denied them. The windows wbefore ere often completely frozen shut, but they would heat small copper coins on the tiled stove, place a hot coin on the frozen window-pane and it would form so round, perfectly round a fine peephole, behind which a wonderfully mild eye would peer out, one from each window; that of the little boy and the little girl. His name was Kay and hers was Gerda. In the summer they could get together by taking one big step, in the winter they first had to go down many stairs and up many stairs; outside the snow was swirling.

‘They are white bees that are swarming,’ the old grandmother said.

‘Do they also have a queen bee?’ the little boy asked, for he knew that among real bees thbefore ere is such a queen.

‘They do indeed!’ the grandmother said. ‘She flies whbefore ere they are swarming at their thickest! she is the largest of them all, and she never remains still on the ground, she keeps on flying up into the black cloud. On many a winter night she flies through the city streets and looks in through the windows, and then they freeze over so strangely, as if with flowers.’

‘Yes, I’ve seen that!’ both children said, and so they knew it was true.

‘Can the Snow Queen come in here?’ the little girl asked.

‘Just let her try and come in’ the boy said, ‘and I’ll put her on the hot stove, and then she’ll melt.’

But the grandmother smoothed his hair and told them other stories.

In the evening when little Kay was at home and half undressed, he crept up onto the chairs by the window and looked out of the small hole; a few snowflakes wbefore ere drifting down, and one of these, the largest of them, came to lie on the edge of one of the flower-boxes; the snowflake grew and grew, and finally it turned into a whole woman, dressed in the finest, white gauze that seemed to be made up of millions of starlike flakes. She was very fine and beautiful, but made of ice, of blinding, twinkling ice, and yet she was alive; her eyes stared like two bright stars, although thbefore ere was no calmness or rest in them. She nodded at the window and waved with her hand. The little boy took fright and jumped down from the chair, and then it was as if a large bird flew past the window.

The next day thbefore ere was a clear frost, – and then spring came along, the sun shone, everything turned green, the swallows built their nests, the windows wbefore ere opened, and the small children sat once more in their tiny garden high up in the gutter above all the storeys of the houses.

The roses bloomed so marvellously that summer; the little girl had learnt a hymn and it talked of roses, and when she read that she thought about her own ones. And ; and she sang it for the little boy, and he joined in:

The roses are in blossom in the vale;
Thbefore ere the Christ child too speaks without fail.

And they held each other by the hand, kissed the roses and gazed into God’s bright sunshine and spoke to it as if the Christ child was there. What delightful summer days they were, how wonderful it was to be out thbefore ere with the fresh rose-trees that never seemed as if they would stop blooming.

It was when Kay and Gerda sat thbefore ere looking at a picture book with animals and birds – the clock was just striking five on the great church steeple – that Kay said: ‘Ow, something’s stuck me in the heart! and now I’ve got something in my eye!’

The little girl held him by the neck. He ; he blinked his eyes; no, thbefore ere was nothing to be seen.

‘I think it’s out again!’ he said; but it wasn’t. For it was one of the specks of glass that came from the mirror, the troll mirror, we surely remember, the horrid glass that made everything large and good that was reflected in it become tiny and horrible, but what was evil and nasty became more obvious, and everything which was wrong with something was immediately noticeable. A tiny shard had also gone right into poor Kay’s heart. Soon his heart would be like a lump of ice. It no longer hurt, but it was there.

‘What are you crying for?’ he asked ‘It makes you look ugly! There’s nothing the matter with me! Ugh!’ he suddenly cried out: ‘That rose over there’s worm-eaten! and look, that one’s all crooked! they really are such ugly roses! They look like the boxes they’re standing in!’ and he gave the box a hard shove with his foot and broke off the two roses.

‘Kay, what are you doing!’ the little girl shouted. And ; and when he saw how shocked she was, he pulled another rose off and then rushed inside from his window, away from lovely little Gerda.

When she later came with the picture book, he said that it was only for babies, and if the grandmother told them stories, he always came up with some objection – and if he could, he would follow after her, put a pair of glasses on and speak exactly the way she did; so convincingly that it made people laugh. He was soon able to follow everyone in the whole street and mimic them. Everything that was a bit odd about them and not very fetching Kay was able to imitate, and then people said: ‘That boy’s certainly got a clever head on his shoulders!’ but it was the piece of glass he had got in his eye, the glass that was lodged in his heart, that was why he teased even little Gerda, who cared for him with all her soul.

The games he played wbefore ere so different from before, they wbefore ere so intelligent: – One winter’s day, when the snowflakes came swirling down, he came with a large magnifying glassburning-glass, held out the corner of his blue coat and let the snowflakes fall on it.

‘Just look in the glass, Gerda!’ he said, and every snowflake became much larger and looked like a magnificent flower or a ten-pointed star. It ; it was lovely to look at.

‘See, how ingenious!’ Kay said, ‘it’s much more interesting than real flowers are! and thbefore ere isn’t a single fault in them anywhere, they are perfectly accurate – as long as they don’t melt!’

Shortly afterwards, Kay came along with big gloves and his sledge on his back. He ; he shouted right into Gerda’s ear: ‘I’ve been given permission to go sledging on the great square whbefore ere the others play!’ and off he rushed.

On the square the boldest boys often fastened their sledges to the farmer’s cart and wbefore ere pulled a long way. That was great fun. Right in the middle of their game, a large sleigh came along. It ; it was painted completely white and in it sat someone wrapped in a thick white fur with a thick furry cape; the sleigh went round the square twice, and Kay quickly fastened his small sledge to it, and now he got a ride. It went faster and faster into the next street; the person driving it looked backwards and nodded to Kay in a friendly way, almost as if they knew each other; each time Kay wanted to unfasten his small sledge, the person nodded once more, and Kay stayed whbefore ere he was. They ; they drove straight out of the city gate. Then the snow started to fall so thick and fast that the little boy couldn’t see a hand in front of his face, while he hurtled along, then he quickly let go of the string to free himself from the big sleigh, but that didn’t help him a bit, his little sledge was still attached and they wbefore ere travelling as fast as the wind. Then he shouted very loudly, but no one heard him, and the snow whirled past and the sledge flew along; from time to time it gave a leap, it was as if he was travelling over ditches and fences. He was quite frightened, wanted to say his Lord’s Prayer, but all he could remember was his multiplication table.

The snowflakes grew larger and larger, finally they looked like large white hens; suddenly they leapt to one side, the large sleigh came to a halt, and the person driving it stood up, the great fur and cape wbefore ere completely of snow. It ; it was a lady, so tall and straight, so gleamingly white: it was the Snow Queen.

‘We’ve arrived safely!’ she said, ‘but do you call that freezing! creep into my bear-fur coat!’ and she placed him in the sleigh with her, wrapped the fur round him, it felt like sinking into a snowdrift.

‘Are you still freezing cold!’ she asked, and then kissed him on the forehead. Uh! it was colder than ice, it went right to his heart, which had already half-turned into a lump of ice. It ; it was as if he was going to die; – but only for a moment, then it felt fine. He ; he no longer noticed the cold around him.

‘My sledge, don’t forget my sledge!’ was the first thing he remembered, and it was attached to one of the white hens, and it flew behind with the sledge on its back. The Snow Queen kissed Kay once more, and then he had forgotten little Gerda and grandmother and all of them back home.

‘That’s all the kisses you’re getting!’ she said, ‘for otherwise I would kiss you to death!’

Kay looked at her, she was so beautiful, he couldn’t imagine a wiser, lovelier face, now she didn’t seem to be of ice, as she did when she sat outside his window and waved to him; in his eyes she was perfect, he didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid, he told her that he could do mental arithmetic, and fractions, knew the area of countries and ‘how many inhabitants’, and she smiled the whole time. Then ; then he felt that what he knew wasn’t enough, and he looked up into the vast, vast realms of the air and she flew with him, flew high up onto the black cloud, and the storm roared and raged, it was as if it was singing old songs. They flew over forests and lakes, over seas and lands; beneath them the cold wind roared, the wolves howled, the snow glittered, with black screeching crows flying above it, but above everything the moon shone so large and bright, and Kay gazed at it the long, long wintry night; during the day he slept at the Snow Queen’s feet.