askedgerda.

"oh,thecrowisdead,"shereplied;"histamesweetheartisnowawidow,andwearsabitofblackworstedroundherleg.shemournsverypitifully,butitisallstuff.butnowtellmehowyoumanagedtogethimback."

thengerdaandkaytoldherallaboutit.

"snip,snap,snare!it'sallrightatlast,"saidtherobber-girl.

thenshetookboththeirhands,andpromisedthatifeversheshouldpassthroughthetown,shewouldcallandpaythemavisit.andthensherodeawayintothewideworld.butgerdaandkaywenthand-in-handtowardshome;andastheyadvanced,springappearedmorelovelywithitsgreenverdureanditsbeautifulflowers.verysoontheyrecognizedthelargetownwheretheylived,andthetallsteeplesofthechurches,inwhichthesweetbellswereringingamerrypealastheyenteredit,andfoundtheirwaytotheirgrandmother'sdoor.theywentupstairsintothelittleroom,wherealllookedjustasitusedtodo.theoldclockwasgoing"tick,tick,"andthehandspointedtothetimeofday,butastheypassedthroughthedoorintotheroomtheyperceivedthattheywerebothgrownup,andbecomeamanandwoman.therosesoutontheroofwereinfullbloom,andpeepedinatthewindow;andtherestoodthelittlechairs,onwhichtheyhadsatwhenchildren;andkayandgerdaseatedthemselveseachontheirownchair,andheldeachotherbythehand,whilethecoldemptygrandeurofthesnowqueen'spalacevanishedfromtheirmemorieslikeapainfuldream.thegrandmothersatingod'sbrightsunshine,andshereadaloudfromthebible,"exceptyebecomeaslittlechildren,yeshallinnowiseenterintothekingdomofgod."andkayandgerdalookedintoeachother'seyes,andallatonceunderstoodthewordsoftheoldsong,

"rosesbloomandceasetobe,

butweshallthechrist-childsee."andtheybothsatthere,grownup,yetchildrenatheart;anditwassummer,-warm,beautifulsummer.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thesnowdrop

byhanschristianandersen

itwaswinter-time;theairwascold,thewindwassharp,butwithinthecloseddoorsitwaswarmandcomfortable,andwithinthecloseddoorlaytheflower;itlayinthebulbunderthesnow-coveredearth.

onedayrainfell.thedropspenetratedthroughthesnowycoveringdownintotheearth,andtouchedtheflower-bulb,andtalkedofthebrightworldabove.soonthesunbeampierceditswaythroughthesnowtotheroot,andwithintheroottherewasastirring.

"comein,"saidtheflower.

"icannot,"saidthesunbeam."iamnotstrongenoughtounlockthedoor!whenthesummercomesishallbestrong!"

"whenwillitbesummer?"askedtheflower,andsherepeatedthisquestioneachtimeanewsunbeammadeitswaydowntoher.butthesummerwasyetfardistant.thesnowstilllayupontheground,andtherewasacoatoficeonthewatereverynight.

"whatalongtimeittakes!whatalongtimeittakes!"saidtheflower."ifeelastirringandstrivingwithinme;imuststretchmyself,imustunlockthedoor,imustgetout,andmustnodagoodmorningtothesummer,andwhatahappytimethatwillbe!"

andtheflowerstirredandstretcheditselfwithinthethinrindwhichthewaterhadsoftenedfromwithout,andthesnowandtheearthhadwarmed,andthesunbeamhadknockedat;anditshotforthunderthesnowwithagreenish-whiteblossomonagreenstalk,withnarrowthickleaves,whichseemedtowanttoprotectit.thesnowwascold,butwaspiercedbythesunbeam,thereforeitwaseasytogetthroughit,andnowthesunbeamcamewithgreaterstrengththanbefore.

"welcome,welcome!"