the little girl and boyUpdated at Jul 21, 2024, 21:05
Second Story. A Little Boy and a Little GirlIn a large town, where there are so many houses, and so many people, that there is not room enough for everybody to have a little garden, and where therefore 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 just as much for each other as if they were. Their parents lived exactly opposite. They inhabited two garrets; the roof of the one house nearly touched the other; the gutter ran along between them. In each house was a little window, so that one could step across the gutter from the one window to the other.The parents of the children had large wooden boxes there, in which vegetables for the kitchen were planted, and little rose trees besides; there was a rose in each box, and they grew splendidly. Now, it occurred to the parents to place the boxes across the gutter, so that they almost reached from one window to the other, and looked just like two banks 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 bent over towards each other: it was almost like a triumphal arch of foliage and flowers. The boxes were very high, and the children knew that they must not creep upon them, but they were often allowed to step out upon the roof, and to sit upon their little stools under the rose trees, and there they could play capitally.In the winter there was an end of this pleasure. The windows were often quite frozen over. But then they warmed copper farthings on the stove, and laid the warm coins on the frozen pane; and this made a capital peep-hole, so round, so round! and behind it gleamed a pretty, mild eye at each window; and these eyes belonged to the little boy and girl who lived nearest together. His name was Kay, her's was Gerda. In the summer they could get to one another at one bound; but in the 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."Look! the white bees are swarming," said the old grandmother."Have they a queen bee?" asked the little boy, for he knew that the real bees have one."Yes, they have one," replied the grandmother. "She flies where the swarm hangs thickest. She is the largest of all, and never remains quietly on the earth; she flies up again into the black cloud. Often in the midnight hour she flies through the streets of the town, and looks in at the windows, and then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderful shapes that look like flowers and castles.""Yes, I have seen it," said both the children; and now they knew that it was true."Can the Snow Queen come in here?" asked the little girl."Only let her come," cried the boy, "I'll set her on the stove, and then she'll melt."But the grandmother smoothed his hair, and told some other tales.In the evening, when little Kay was at home and half undressed, he crept 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 one of the flower-boxes. The snow-flake grew larger and larger, and at last it became a maiden, dressed in the finest white gauze, which looked as if it were made of millions of starry flakes. She was so beautiful and delicate, but 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 sprang down from the chair; then it seemed as if a large bird flew by outside, in front of the window.The next day it was a sharp frost, and then the spring came; the sun shone, the green sprouted forth, the swallows built 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. The roses bloomed splendidly this summer; the little girl had learned a hymn, in which it said that roses in the valleys stand in the presence of Jesus. The little children sang it together, and they kissed the roses and rejoiced in the bright sunshine, and spoke to it as if Jesus were there. Those were splendid summer days. How beautiful it was without, among the fresh rose bushes, which seemed as if they would never leave off blooming! One day Kay and Gerda sat and looked at a picture book of beasts and birds; then it was—just as the clock in the church tower struck five—that Kay said, "Oh! something struck my heart and pricked me in the eye."The little girl fell upon his neck; he blinked his eyes. No, there was nothing to be seen."I think it is out now," said he; but it was not. It was just one of those glass splinters from the mirror—that magic mirror of which we have spoken—the ugly glass, which made everything great and good reflected in it shrink