asked Gerda.
  "Oh, the crow is dead," she replied; "his tame sweetheart is now awidow, and wears a bit of black worsted round her leg. She mourns verypitifully, but it is all stuff. But now tell me how you managed to gethim back."
  Then Gerda and Kay told her all about it.
  "Snip, snap, snare! it's all right at last," said the robber-girl.
  Then she took both their hands, and promised that if ever sheshould pass through the town, she would call and pay them a visit. Andthen she rode away into the wide world. But Gerda and Kay wenthand-in-hand towards home; and as they advanced, spring appearedmore lovely with its green verdure and its beautiful flowers. Verysoon they recognized the large town where they lived, and the tallsteeples of the churches, in which the sweet bells were ringing amerry peal as they entered it, and found their way to theirgrandmother's door. They went upstairs into the little room, where alllooked just as it used to do. The old clock was going "tick, tick,"and the hands pointed to the time of day, but as they passed throughthe door into the room they perceived that they were both grown up,and become a man and woman. The roses out on the roof were in fullbloom, and peeped in at the window; and there stood the little chairs,on which they had sat when children; and Kay and Gerda seatedthemselves each on their own chair, and held each other by the hand,while the cold empty grandeur of the Snow Queen's palace vanished fromtheir memories like a painful dream. The grandmother sat in God'sbright sunshine, and she read aloud from the Bible, "Except yebecome as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into thekingdom of God." And Kay and Gerda looked into each other's eyes,and all at once understood the words of the old song,
  "Roses bloom and cease to be,
  But we shall the Christ-child see."And they both sat there, grown up, yet children at heart; and it wassummer,- warm, beautiful summer.
  THE END.
  1872
  FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
  THE SNOWDROP
  by Hans Christian Andersen
  IT was winter-time; the air was cold, the wind was sharp, butwithin the closed doors it was warm and comfortable, and within theclosed door lay the flower; it lay in the bulb under thesnow-covered earth.
  One day rain fell. The drops penetrated through the snowy coveringdown into the earth, and touched the flower-bulb, and talked of thebright world above. Soon the Sunbeam pierced its way through thesnow to the root, and within the root there was a stirring.
  "Come in," said the flower.
  "I cannot," said the Sunbeam. "I am not strong enough to unlockthe door! When the summer comes I shall be strong!"
  "When will it be summer?" asked the Flower, and she repeatedthis question each time a new sunbeam made its way down to her. Butthe summer was yet far distant. The snow still lay upon the ground,and there was a coat of ice on the water every night.
  "What a long time it takes! what a long time it takes!" said theFlower. "I feel a stirring and striving within me; I must stretchmyself, I must unlock the door, I must get out, and must nod a goodmorning to the summer, and what a happy time that will be!"
  And the Flower stirred and stretched itself within the thin rindwhich the water had softened from without, and the snow and theearth had warmed, and the Sunbeam had knocked at; and it shot forthunder the snow with a greenish-white blossom on a green stalk, withnarrow thick leaves, which seemed to want to protect it. The snowwas cold, but was pierced by the Sunbeam, therefore it was easy to getthrough it, and now the Sunbeam came with greater strength thanbefore.
  "Welcome, welcome!"