白雪皇后

THE SNOW QUEEN

　　FIRST STORY. Which Treats of a Mirror and of the Splinters

　　Now then， let us begin. When we are at the end of the story， we shall know more than we know now： but to begin.

　　Once upon a time there was a wicked sprite， indeed he was the most mischievous of all sprites. One day he was in a very good humor， for he had made a mirror with the power of causing all that was good and beautiful when it was reflected therein， to look poor and mean； but that which was good-for-nothing and looked ugly was shown magnified and increased in ugliness. In this mirror the most beautiful landscapes looked like boiled spinach， and the best persons were turned into frights， or appeared to stand on their heads； their faces were so distorted that they were not to be recognised； and if anyone had a mole， you might be sure that it would be magnified and spread over both nose and mouth.

　　“That's glorious fun！” said the sprite. If a good thought passed through a man's mind， then a grin was seen in the mirror， and the sprite laughed heartily at his clever discovery. All the little sprites who went to his school——for he kept a sprite school——told each other that a miracle had happened； and that now only， as they thought， it would be possible to see how the world really looked. They ran about with the mirror； and at last there was not a land or a person who was not represented distorted in the mirror. So then they thought they would fly up to the sky， and have a joke there. The higher they flew with the mirror， the more terribly it grinned： they could hardly hold it fast. Higher and higher still they flew， nearer and nearer to the stars， when suddenly the mirror shook so terribly with grinning， that it flew out of their hands and fell to the earth， where it was dashed in a hundred million and more pieces. And now it worked much more evil than before；for some of these pieces were hardly so large as a grain of sand， and they flew about in the wide world， and when they got into people's eyes， there they stayed； and then people saw everything perverted， or only had an eye for that which was evil. This happened because the very smallest bit had the same power which the whole mirror had possessed. Some persons even got a splinter in their heart， and then it made one shudder， for their heart became like a lump of ice. Some of the broken pieces were so large that they were used for windowpanes， through which one could not see one's friends. Other pieces were put in spectacles； and that was a sad affair when people put on their glasses to see well and rightly. Then the wicked sprite laughed till he almost choked，for all this tickled his fancy. The fine splinters still flew about in the air： and now we shall hear what happened next.

　　SECOND STORY. A Little Boy and a Little Girl

　　In a large town， where there are so many houses， and so many people， that there is no roof left for everybody to have a little garden； and where， on this account， most persons are obliged to content themselves with flowers in pots； there lived two little children， who had a garden somewhat larger than a flower-pot. They were not brother and sister； but they cared for each other as much as if they were. Their parents lived exactly 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 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 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.