"therewerethreebeautifulsisters,fairanddelicate.thedressofonewasred,ofthesecondblue,andofthethirdpurewhite.handinhandtheydancedinthebrightmoonlight,bythecalmlake;buttheywerehumanbeings,notfairyelves.thesweetfragranceattractedthem,andtheydisappearedinthewood;herethefragrancebecamestronger.threecoffins,inwhichlaythethreebeautifulmaidens,glidedfromthethickestpartoftheforestacrossthelake.thefire-fliesflewlightlyoverthem,likelittlefloatingtorches.dothedancingmaidenssleep,oraretheydead?thescentoftheflowersaysthattheyarecorpses.theeveningbelltollstheirknell."

"youmakemequitesorrowful,"saidlittlegerda;"yourperfumeissostrong,youmakemethinkofthedeadmaidens.ah!islittlekayreallydeadthen?theroseshavebeenintheearth,andtheysayno."

"cling,clang,"tolledthehyacinthbells."wearenottollingforlittlekay;wedonotknowhim.wesingoursong,theonlyoneweknow."

thengerdawenttothebuttercupsthatwereglitteringamongstthebrightgreenleaves.

"youarelittlebrightsuns,"saidgerda;"tellmeifyouknowwhereicanfindmyplay-fellow."

andthebuttercupssparkledgayly,andlookedagainatgerda.whatsongcouldthebuttercupssing?itwasnotaboutkay.

"thebrightwarmsunshoneonalittlecourt,onthefirstwarmdayofspring.hisbrightbeamsrestedonthewhitewallsoftheneighboringhouse;andclosebybloomedthefirstyellowfloweroftheseason,glitteringlikegoldinthesun'swarmray.anoldwomansatinherarmchairatthehousedoor,andhergranddaughter,apoorandprettyservant-maidcametoseeherforashortvisit.whenshekissedhergrandmothertherewasgoldeverywhere:thegoldoftheheartinthatholykiss;itwasagoldenmorning;therewasgoldinthebeamingsunlight,goldintheleavesofthelowlyflower,andonthelipsofthemaiden.there,thatismystory,"saidthebuttercup.

"mypooroldgrandmother!"sighedgerda;"sheislongingtoseeme,andgrievingformeasshedidforlittlekay;butishallsoongohomenow,andtakelittlekaywithme.itisnouseaskingtheflowers;theyknowonlytheirownsongs,andcangivemenoinformation."

andthenshetuckedupherlittledress,thatshemightrunfaster,butthenarcissuscaughtherbythelegasshewasjumpingoverit;soshestoppedandlookedatthetallyellowflower,andsaid,"perhapsyoumayknowsomething."

thenshestoopeddownquiteclosetotheflower,andlistened;andwhatdidhesay?

"icanseemyself,icanseemyself,"saidthenarcissus."oh,howsweetismyperfume!upinalittleroomwithabowwindow,standsalittledancinggirl,halfundressed;shestandssometimesononeleg,andsometimesonboth,andlooksasifshewouldtreadthewholeworldunderherfeet.sheisnothingbutadelusion.sheispouringwateroutofatea-potonapieceofstuffwhichsheholdsinherhand;itisherbodice.'cleanlinessisagoodthing,'shesays.herwhitedresshangsonapeg;ithasalsobeenwashedinthetea-pot,anddriedontheroof.sheputsiton,andtiesasaffron-coloredhandkerchiefroundherneck,whichmakesthedresslookwhiter.seehowshestretchesoutherlegs,asifshewereshowingoffonastem.icanseemyself,icanseemyself."

"whatdoicareforallthat,"saidgerda,"youneednottellmesuchstuff."andthensherantotheotherendofthegarden.thedoorwasfastened,butshepressedagainsttherustylatch,anditgaveway.thedoorsprangopen,andlittlegerdaranoutwithbarefeetintothewideworld.shelookedbackthreetimes,butnooneseemedtobefollowingher.atlastshecouldrunnolonger,soshesatdowntorestonagreatstone,andwhenshelookedroundshesawthatthesummerwasover,andautumnveryfaradvanced.shehadknownnothingofthisinthebeautifulgarden,wherethesunshoneandtheflowersgrewalltheyearround.

"oh,howihavewastedmytime?"