asked the little boy, for he knew thatthe real bees had a queen.
  "To be sure they have," said the grandmother. "She is flying therewhere the swarm is thickest. She is the largest of them all, and neverremains on the earth, but flies up to the dark clouds. Often atmidnight she flies through the streets of the town, and looks in atthe windows, then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderfulshapes, that look like flowers and castles."
  "Yes, I have seen them," said both the children, and they knewit must be true.
  "Can the Snow Queen come in here?" asked the little girl.
  "Only let her come," said the boy, "I'll set her on the stoveand then she'll melt."
  Then the grandmother smoothed his hair and told him some moretales. One evening, when little Kay was at home, half undressed, heclimbed on a chair by the window and peeped out through the littlehole. A few flakes of snow were falling, and one of them, ratherlarger than the rest, alighted on the edge of one of the flower boxes.This snow-flake grew larger and larger, till at last it became thefigure of a woman, dressed in garments of white gauze, which lookedlike millions of starry snow-flakes linked together. She was fairand beautiful, but made of ice- shining and glittering ice. Stillshe was alive and her eyes sparkled like bright stars, but there wasneither peace nor rest in their glance. She nodded towards thewindow and waved her hand. The little boy was frightened and sprangfrom the chair; at the same moment it seemed as if a large bird flewby the window. On the following day there was a clear frost, andvery soon came the spring. The sun shone; the young green leaves burstforth; the swallows built their nests; windows were opened, and thechildren sat once more in the garden on the roof, high above all theother rooms. How beautiful the roses blossomed this summer. The littlegirl had learnt a hymn in which roses were spoken of, and then shethought of their own roses, and she sang the hymn to the little boy,and he sang too:-
  "Roses bloom and cease to be,
  But we shall the Christ-child see."Then the little ones held each other by the hand, and kissed theroses, and looked at the bright sunshine, and spoke to it as if theChrist-child were there. Those were splendid summer days. Howbeautiful and fresh it was out among the rose-bushes, which seemedas if they would never leave off blooming. One day Kay and Gerda satlooking at a book full of pictures of animals and birds, and then justas the clock in the church tower struck twelve, Kay said, "Oh,something has struck my heart!" and soon after, "There is something inmy eye."
  The little girl put her arm round his neck, and looked into hiseye, but she could see nothing.
  "I think it is gone," he said. But it was not gone; it was oneof those bits of the looking-glass- that magic mirror, of which wehave spoken- the ugly glass which made everything great and goodappear small and ugly, while all that was wicked and bad became morevisible, and every little fault could be plainly seen. Poor little Kayhad also received a small grain in his heart, which very quicklyturned to a lump of ice. He felt no more pain, but the glass was therestill. "Why do you cry?" said he at last; "it makes you look ugly.There is nothing the matter with me now. Oh, see!" he criedsuddenly, "that rose is worm-eaten, and this one is quite crooked.After all they are ugly roses, just like the box in which they stand,"and then he kicked the boxes with his foot, and pulled off the tworoses.
  "Kay, what are you doing?"