It was not long after this, that Kay came one day with large gloves on, and
his little sledge at his back, and bawled right into Gerda's ears, "I have
permission to go out into the square where the others are playing"; and off he
was in a moment.

There, in the market-place, some of the boldest of the boys used to tie their
sledges to the carts as they passed by, and so they were pulled along, and got
a good ride. It was so capital! Just as they were in the very height of their
amusement, a large sledge passed by: it was painted quite white, and there was
someone in it wrapped up in a rough white mantle of fur, with a rough white
fur cap on his head. The sledge drove round the square twice, and Kay tied on
his sledge as quickly as he could, and off he drove with it. On they went
quicker and quicker into the next street; and the person who drove turned
round to Kay, and nodded to him in a friendly manner, just as if they knew
each other. Every time he was going to untie his sledge, the person nodded to
him, and then Kay sat quiet; and so on they went till they came outside the
gates of the town. Then the snow began to fall so thickly that the little boy
could not see an arm's length before him, but still on he went: when suddenly
he let go the string he held in his hand in order to get loose from the
sledge, but it was of no use; still the little vehicle rushed on with the
quickness of the wind. He then cried as loud as he could, but no one heard
him; the snow drifted and the sledge flew on, and sometimes it gave a jerk as
though they were driving over hedges and ditches. He was quite frightened, and
he tried to repeat the Lord's Prayer; but all he could do, he was only able to
remember the multiplication table.

The snow-flakes grew larger and larger, till at last they looked just like
great white fowls. Suddenly they flew on one side; the large sledge stopped,
and the person who drove rose up. It was a lady; her cloak and cap were of
snow. She was tall and of slender figure, and of a dazzling whiteness. It was
the Snow Queen.

"We have travelled fast," said she; "but it is freezingly cold. Come under my
bearskin." And she put him in the sledge beside her, wrapped the fur round
him, and he felt as though he were sinking in a snow-wreath.

"Are you still cold?" asked she; and then she kissed his forehead. Ah! it was
colder than ice; it penetrated to his very heart, which was already almost a
frozen lump; it seemed to him as if he were about to die--but a moment more
and it was quite congenial to him, and he did not remark the cold that was
around him.

"My sledge! Do not forget my sledge!" It was the first thing he thought of. It
was there tied to one of the white chickens, who flew along with it on his
back behind the large sledge. The Snow Queen kissed Kay once more, and then he
forgot little Gerda, grandmother, and all whom he had left at his home.

"Now you will have no more kisses," said she, "or else I should kiss you to
death!"

Kay looked at her. She was very beautiful; a more clever, or a more lovely
countenance he could not fancy to himself; and she no longer appeared of ice
as before, when she sat outside the window, and beckoned to him; in his eyes
she was perfect, he did not fear her at all, and told her that he could
calculate in his head and with fractions, even; that he knew the number of
square miles there were in the different countries, and how many inhabitants
they contained; and she smiled while he spoke. It then seemed to him as if
what he knew was not enough, and he looked upwards in the large huge empty
space above him, and on she flew with him; flew high over the black clouds,
while the storm moaned and whistled as though it were singing some old tune.
On they flew over woods and lakes, over seas, and many lands; and beneath them
the chilling storm rushed fast, the wolves howled, the snow crackled; above
them flew large screaming crows, but higher up appeared the moon, quite large
and bright; and it was on it that Kay gazed during the long long winter's
night; while by day he slept at the feet of the Snow Queen.


THIRD STORY. Of the Flower-Garden At the Old Woman's Who Understood Witchcraft

But what became of little Gerda when Kay did not return? Where could he be?
Nobody knew; nobody could give any intelligence. All the boys knew was, that
they had seen him tie his sledge to another large and splendid one, which
drove down the street and out of the town. Nobody knew where he was; many sad
tears were shed, and little Gerda wept long and bitterly; at last she said he
must be dead; that he had been drowned in the river which flowed close to the
town. Oh! those were very long and dismal winter evenings!

At last spring came, with its warm sunshine.

"Kay is dead and gone!" said little Gerda.

"That I don't believe," said the Sunshine.

"Kay is dead and gone!" said she to the Swallows.

"That I don't believe," said they: and at last little Gerda did not think so
any longer either.

"I'll put on my red shoes," said she, one morning; "Kay has never seen them,
and then I'll go down to the river and ask there."

It was quite early; she kissed her old grandmother, who was still asleep, put
on her red shoes, and went alone to the river.

"Is it true that you have taken my little playfellow? I will make you a
present of my red shoes, if you will give him back to me."

And, as it seemed to her, the blue waves nodded in a strange manner; then she
took off her red shoes, the most precious things she possessed, and threw them


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