THE SNOW QUEEN
roses, and looked up into the blue sky, talking away all the time. What glorious summer days were those! how delightful it was to sit under those rose-trees which seemed as if they never intended to leave off blossoming! One day Kay and Gerda were sitting looking at their picture-book full of birds and animals, when suddenly—the clock on the old church tower was just striking five—Kay exclaimed, 'Oh, dear! what was that shooting pain in my heart: and now again, something has certainly got into my eye!'
The little girl turned and looked at him. He winked his eyes; no, there was nothing to be seen.
'I believe it is gone,' said he; but gone it was not. It was one of those glass splinters from the Magic Mirror, the wicked glass which made everything great and good reflected in it to appear little and hateful, and which magnified everything ugly and mean. Poor Kay had also received a splinter in his heart; it would now become hard and cold like a lump of ice. He felt the pain no longer, but the splinter was there.
'Why do you cry?' asked he; 'you look so ugly when you cry! there is nothing the matter with me. Fie!' exclaimed he again, 'this rose has an insect in it, and just look at this! After all, they are ugly roses! and it is an ugly box they grow in!' then he kicked the box, and tore off the roses.
'O Kay, what are you doing?' cried the little girl, but when he saw how it grieved her, he tore off another rose, and jumped down through his own window, away from his once dear little Gerda.
Ever afterwards when she brought forward the picture-book, he called it a baby's book, and when her grandmother told stories, he interrupted her with a 'but,' and sometimes, whenever he could manage it, he would get behind her, put on her spectacles, and speak just as she did; he did this in a very
