Please pay attention! Now we're going to start telling it. When we hear the end of this story, we'll know even more than we do now, because he's a very bad little kid. He was one of the worst of the worst, because he was the devil. One day he was very happy because he made a mirror. This mirror had one peculiarity: that is, everything that was good and beautiful, when shone in it, shrank into nothing; but something worthless and ugly stood out, and looked worse than its original form. The fairest landscapes will look like boiled spinach in this mirror; and the best of men will either appear to make an abomination of themselves, or they will be head down and feet up, with no body, and with faces so deformed that they cannot be recognized. If you have a freckle, you need not doubt that it can expand to cover your nose and mouth.
The devil says: That's funny. When a thought of piety and goodness comes into one's mind, it manifests itself in this mirror as a strange grin with bared teeth. So the Devil laughed in triumph at this ingenious invention of his. Those who had been in the devil's school - for he runs a school - publicized it wherever they went, saying that a miracle of some kind had now taken place. They said that for the first time people could see the world and mankind as they were. They are running around with this mirror, making it so that there is not a single country or nation that has not been distorted in it. Now they actually want to fly up into the sky to mock the Angel or "our God". The higher the mirror and they flew, the more it showed some strange laughter. They could hardly hold it. The higher they flew, the nearer they came to God and to the Angel; and the mirror and its laughter began to shake terribly, so that it fell out of their hands to the earth, and fell into hundreds and hundreds of billions and countless fragments. In this way the mirror did even more unfortunate things than before, for there were many fragments smaller than grains of sand. They fly about the world, and as soon as they come into the eyes of men, they stick there without moving. These people look at everything out of place, or see only the bad side of things, because each tiny shard still has the magic power of a whole mirror. Some even harbor such a shard in their hearts, with the unfortunate result that the heart turns to ice.
Some shards are large enough to be glass in a window, though it would be inappropriate to look at one's friends through such glass. Some shards were made into eyeglasses. It would also be improper for people to try to wear such glasses to see properly or judge things fairly. This would cause the devil to laugh and make his stomach hurt because he was so sore at such things. But there are a few more pieces flying around in the air out there. Now let's hear it!
The Second Story A Little Boy and a Little Girl
In a big city, there were so many houses and inhabitants, and so little space, that people didn't even have a small garden. As a result, most people had to be content with a few flowers planted in pots. Here lived two poor children who had a garden slightly larger than a flowerpot. They were not brother and sister, but they were very dear to each other, as if they were brother and sister. Each of their parents lived in two attics facing each other. The roofs of the two houses almost touched each other; there was a water pipe under the eaves of each house; and each house had a small window. People could get from one window to the other by crossing the water pipe.
The parents of the two families each had a large box in which grew a small rose and the vegetables they needed. The roses in both boxes grew very beautifully. Now these two parents placed the box across the water pipe, with the ends of the box almost against the windows on either side, as if they were two embankments full of flowers. Pea vines hung over the box, and roses stretched out their long branches. They coiled and twisted around each other on the windows, almost like a triumphal arch woven of green leaves and flowers. Because the box was placed so high, the children knew they could not just climb up to it, though sometimes they got permission to do so, and the two of them came together and sat on a little stool under the roses. They can have a good time up here.
This pastime was over by winter. The windows were often covered with ice. But then they would heat a copper plate on the stove, stick it to the windowpane, and dissolve a small, round peephole! Behind the peep-hole in each window was a beautiful, gentle eye peeping out. It was the little boy and the little girl. The boy's name was Gaj; the girl's name was Gerda.
In the summer, they could come together in just one jump; in the winter, though, one had to walk down a big ladder and then climb up another. Outside, snowflakes were flying.
"That's the white bees gathering." The elderly grandmother said.
"Do they have a queen bee too?" The little boy asked. For he knew that real bees have a queen in their swarms.
"Yes, they have one!" Grandmother said, "She flies wherever the bees are densest. She is the biggest one of the bees. She never lives quietly in this world; she flies in a moment into the thick swarms of bees. She used to fly through the streets of the city on winter nights and look inside the windows. The windows were covered with strange ice, as if they were blooming with flowers."
"Yes, that one I have seen!" The two children said in unison. They knew it was true.
"Can I walk in here after the snow?" The little girl asked.
"As soon as you let her in," the boy said, "I'm going to ask her to sit on the warm hearth, then she'll melt into water."
But the old grandmother straightened his hair and told some other story.
Evening, when little Gaj was in the house and half undressed, he climbed up into the chair by the window and looked out through that little peephole. There were several snowflakes falling slowly outside, and the largest of them landed on the side of the flower box. The snowflake grew larger and larger, and finally became a woman. She was clad in the finest, white veil woven from snowflakes like countless stars. She was very beautiful and delicate, though she was formed of ice - glowing, shining ice. Yet she was alive: her eyes glowed like two bright stars; though there was no peace or quiet in them. She nodded and beckoned to Gaj. The little boy grew frightened. He jumped out of his chair and felt as if a giant bird was flying past outside the window.
The next day there was a frost ...... followed by a thaw ...... Spring came. The sun shone, green shoots sprang up, swallows built their nests, windows opened, and little children sat high up in the little garden on the water conduit on the roof of the building again.
The roses bloomed really beautifully this summer! The little girl read a hymn well, and there the roses were mentioned. Talking about roses made her think of her own flowers. So she sang the hymn to the little boy, and he sang it too:
In the valley the roses grow in abundance,
There we meet the Holy Child Jesus.
These two little ones, arm in arm, kissed the roses, looked at God's radiant sun, and spoke to it as if the Holy Child Jesus were there. What a sunny summer day it was! And how beautiful everything was outside, among those rose bushes - which seemed as if they would never bloom enough!
Gaye and Gerda sat looking at picture books with birds and animals. At that moment the bell on the tower of the cathedral struck exactly five times. So Gaj said:
"Ah! Something pierced my heart! Something has fallen into my eye!"
The little girl threw her arms around his neck. He blinked his eyes. No, he didn't see anything.
"I don't think there's anything!" He said. But it wasn't. What fell was exactly a shard of glass that had cracked off that mirror. We remember well that it was a magic mirror, an ugly piece of glass. It made all that was great and good contemptible and hateful, but it reflected all that was vile and sinful prominently, and at the same time made the faults of every thing noticeable to all. Such a splinter clung to poor little Ghai's heart, and his heart at once became like ice. He was not unpleasantly surprised, but the shard was hidden in his heart.
"Why are you crying?" He asked. "It makes you look really bad! I don't like the look at all. Ugh!" He suddenly shouted, "That rose was eaten by worms! Look, this one has grown crooked too! They sure are some ugly roses! They really look like the box in which they were planted!"
So he kicked the box hard and pulled out all the two roses.
"Gaj, what are you doing?" The little girl called up.
As soon as he saw her terrified look, he immediately pulled out another rose. Then he jumped into his window and left gentle little Gerda outside.
When she later followed him in with a picture book, he said it was only worthy of a small child at milk. He always inserted a "but ......" when his grandmother was telling a story, and when he had a chance he stole after her, wearing a pair of old spectacles, and spoke after her fashion: he learned it so cleverly that everybody laughed at him. Soon he learned to imitate the conversation and walk of the people in the streets. Whatever was odd and ugly in people, Gaj imitated. Everyone said, "This boy, he must have a very special mind!" Yet it was all because he hid a shard of glass in his eyes and a shard of glass in his heart. He even went so far as to sneer at little Gerda - the Gerda who loved him with all her heart.
His games were obviously a little different than they had been before, and he played much smarter than he had before. One winter day, when the snowflakes were flying, he came out with a magnifying glass and lifted the hem of his blue blouse so that the snowflakes fell on it.
"Gerda, take a look at this mirror!" He said.
Each snowflake was magnified to look like a beautiful flower, or a star with six pointed corners. It was very wonderful.
"Look how ingenious this is!" Gaj said, "It's much more interesting than a real flower: there's nothing wrong with it at all - as long as they don't melt, it's very neat."
Not long afterward, Gaj approached, wearing thick gloves and carrying a sled. He barked into Gerda's ear and said, "I Box got permission to go over to the square - lots of other kids are playing there." And so he went.
On the square the boldest of the children used to tie their sleds to the back of the countryman's wagon, and then sit on them for a long run. They ran with great delight. While they were playing, a big sleigh came sliding by. It was painted snow-white, and on it sat a man, dressed in a thick-furred white leather gown and a thick-furred white hat. The sleigh skidded twice around the square. So Ghai hastened to fasten his own sled to it and slid along with it. It slid faster and faster until it reached a neighboring street. The man on the sled turned around and nodded kindly to Ghai. It was as if they knew each other. Every time Ghai tried to unhitch his sled, the man nodded to him again; and Ghai sat down again. In this way they slid all the way out of the city gates. By this time the snow was falling so thickly that the boy could not see out of his hand, and yet he was sliding forward. He now let go of the rope sharply, trying to get away from the sledge. But it was of no use at all; his little sledges were securely tied. They slid forward like the wind. At this point he screamed loudly, but no one paid any attention to him. The snowflakes were flying and so were the sleds. From time to time they jumped upward as if they were flying over fences and ditches. He became very frightened. He wanted to say a prayer, but all he could remember was the multiplication table.
The snow got heavier and heavier. At last the snowflakes looked like huge white chickens. The sledge suddenly jumped to the side and stopped; the man sledding stood up. The man's leather coat and hat were made entirely of snowflakes. This turned out to be a woman, tall and slim, and her whole body shone white. She was the Snow Queen.
"We're skating well," she said, "but you're freezing, aren't you? Come into my fur coat."
She carried him into her sled and sat him beside her, and she wrapped him in her own leather coat. It was as if he had crashed into a snowdrift.
"Do you still feel cold?" She asked, placing a kiss on his forehead.
Ah! That kiss was colder than ice! It penetrated all the way into his heart, half of which had become ice - he felt as if he was dying. But the feeling didn't last long, and he immediately felt comfortable. He also no longer felt the cold around him.
"My sled! Don't forget my sled!"
That was the first thing that came to his mind. It was already securely tied to a white chicken, and the broiler was flying behind them with the sled on its back. The Snow Queen had kissed Ghai again. From then on he completely forgot about tiny Gerda, his grandmother and all the people in the house.
"You won't need any more kisses now," she said, "because I'll kiss you to death if you ask for any more."
Gaie looked at her. She was so beautiful, and he could never imagine a more beautiful and intelligent face. Unlike the way she used to look when she sat outside the window and waved at him, she didn't look at all like she was made of snow now. To his eyes she was perfect; he felt no fear at all now. He told her that he could do mental math, even fractions; that he knew the entire size of the country and its inhabitants. She just smiled. It seemed to him at this point that he did not know very much. He looked up into the vast sky; she took him with her above the dark clouds. The storm winds were blowing and howling as if they were singing an old song. They flew over woods and lakes, over sea and land; beneath them the cold winds roared, the jackals whistled, and the snowflakes sent up flashes. Above flew a flock of shrieking crows. But farther up was lighted a bright moon, and Ghai had looked at it all through this long winter night. At dawn he fell asleep at the feet of the snow queen.
The Third Story The Garden of a Woman Who Could Do Magic
How did little Gerda feel when Gaj did not return? Where had he gone? No one knew, and no one brought any news. Some of the boys told her that they had seen him tie his sled to a nice big one, drive up the street, and slide out of the city gates. No one knew where he was. Many tears were shed, and little Gerda cried especially long and hard. Then it was thought that he was dead - had fallen into the river that flowed past the edge of town and drowned. Ah, what dark and long winter days those were!
Now spring came with its warm sunbeams.
"Gaj is dead and gone!" Tiny Gerda said.
"I don't believe it!" Sunbeam said.
"He's dead and gone!" She said to Swallow.
"I don't believe it!" They replied. Finally, little Gerda herself did not believe it.
"I will put on my new pair of red shoes," she said one morning, "the ones that Gaj has never seen before. Then I'll go down to the river and look for him!"
It was still very early in the day. She kissed her old grandmother, who was still sleeping, and so she put on her red shoes and walked out of town alone to the river.
"Did you really take my dear playmate away? If you give him back to me, I will give you these red shoes!"
She seemed to feel the waves nodding strangely at her. So she took off her most beloved thing, her red shoes. She threw the shoes into the river. But they landed so close to the shore that the waves knocked them back to shore and returned them to her. The river seemed reluctant to accept this beloved thing of hers, for it had not taken her dear Ghai away from her. But she thought she had not thrown the shoes far enough. So it was that she got into one of the boats that were anchored among the reeds. She went to the other end of the boat and threw the pair of shoes. But the boat was not fastened, and when she moved it, it drifted away from the shore. As soon as she realized this, she tried to get out of the boat, but before she could reach the other end, the boat was already an Aaron1 away from the shore. It was drifting faster than before.
Tiny Gerda was so frightened that she began to cry. But no one could hear her except the sparrows; and the sparrows were not able to return her to land. But they flew along the bank, singing as if to comfort her, "Here we are! Here we are!" The boat went downstream. Tiny Gerda sat still with only socks on her feet. Her little red shoes floated behind her. But they could not float to the side of the boat, for the boat was going fast.
The banks were very beautiful. There were beautiful flowers and old trees on the shore, and hillsides with cows and sheep, but there was not a soul.
"Maybe this river will take me to Kogaj." Gerda thought.
This made her feel a little better. She stood up and looked at the beautiful green banks of the river on both sides for a long time. Soon she came to a large cherry orchard. It had a little house in it, and it had some strange blue and red windows, and a thatched roof, and two wooden soldiers stood outside: they saluted all who passed by in their boats.
Gerda called out to them, for she thought they were real soldiers. They, of course, would not answer. She came close to them, and the river had floated the boat to the shore.
Gerda shouted louder. At that moment a very, very old woman came out on crutches: she wore a large straw hat with many beautiful flowers painted on it.
"You poor little darling!" The old woman said, "How did you come to float so far down this river where the waves roll?"
So this old woman went down to the water, hooked the boat with her cane, dragged it to the shore, and carried the tiny Gerda down.
Gerda was glad to be back on land now, but she was a little afraid of this strange old woman.
"Come on, tell me who you are. How did you get here." She said as Gerda told her everything. The old woman shook her head and said, "Hmph! Hmph!" When Gerda had told her all, and asked her if she had seen little Ghai, the old woman said that he had not come yet, but he would come, and that Gerda should not be too sad, and that she could taste the cherries, and look at the flowers, and that they were better than anything drawn in any picture-books, for each one of them could tell a story. So she took Gerda by the hand and led her to the cottage and locked the door.
The windows opened high; the glass was all painted red, blue and yellow. Daylight came in wonderfully, shining in many different colors. There were many of the most delicious cherries on the table. Gerda gorged herself as much as she could, for she could eat a little more without mattering. While she was eating, the old woman brushed her hair with a gold comb. Her hair funked into long, beautiful yellow ringlets that hung down over her kind little face like blooming roses.
"I have long wished for a sweet little girl like you," said the old woman, "and now you see how the two of us will live happily together!"
As the old woman brushed her hair, she gradually forgot about her playmate, Gaj, for the old woman could do magic, but she was not a wicked witch, that is all. She was only playing a little illusion for her own amusement, and at the same time she wanted to keep little Gerda. So now she went out into the garden and pointed with her cane at all the roses. Though they bloomed beautifully, in a little while they all sank down into the black earth: no one could tell where, exactly, they had been. The old woman was afraid: if Gerda saw the roses, she would think of her own flowers, and therefore of little Gaj, and in consequence would certainly run away.
She now led Gerda out into the garden. Hi! How fragrant and beautiful it is in here! Here bloomed as many flowers as one could imagine and in every season: no picture book was so colorful, so beautiful. Gerda jumped for joy. She played until the sun went down behind the tall cherry-trees. Then she went to sleep in a beautiful bed; the duck-down quilt was made of red silk, and had blue violets in it. And here she fell asleep and dreamed strange dreams, like a queen on her wedding day.
The next day she was able to play with the flowers again in the warmth of the sun's rays--and so on for days, and Gerda knew every kind of flower. There were so many different kinds of flowers that she still seemed to think there was one missing, though which one she didn't know. One day she sat staring at the flowers painted on the old woman's straw hat: the most beautiful of them all was a rose. When the old woman hid all the roses in the ground, she forgot to remove this one from her hat. But a person who doesn't pay attention always ends up like this.
"What, no roses here?" Gerda said.
So she jumped into the middle of the flower bed and looked and looked, but she could not find a single one. At that she sat down on the ground and cried: and her hot tears fell exactly where one of the roses had sunk. As soon as the hot tears had moistened the earth, the rose sprang up and blossomed profusely, just as it had done when it fell into the earth. Gerda embraced it and kissed the rose blossoms, whereupon she was reminded of the beautiful roses at home, and at the same time of little Gaj.
"Ah, how much time I have delayed!" The little girl said. "I am going to look for Tiny Gaj! Do you know where he is?" She asked the roses. "Do ye know if he's dead?"
"He's not dead!" The roses said. "We were in the ground once when all the dead were there. But Gaj wasn't there!"
"Thank you!" Tiny Gerda said. So she went over to the other flowers and looked inside their calyxes, and asked, "Do you know where tiny Gaj is!"
But each flower was basking in the sun and dreaming its own story or fairy tale. These stories or fairy tales Gerda heard many, many times, but no flower knew anything about Gaj.
What did the curly daisy tell?
Have you ever heard the drumbeat "Winter - Winter"? It always has only two tones: winter - winter! Please listen to the dirge of the women! Hear the call of the priests! The widow of India stands on the pyre in her red robe. The flames blaze up towards her and her dead husband's body. But the Indian widow was thinking of one of the living among the group standing around her: a man whose eyes burned hotter than the flames, and the fire in his eyes pierced into her heart, hotter than the flames that were about to burn her body to ashes. Would the fire in her heart die in the flames on the pyre?
"That I do not understand at all!" Tiny Gerda said.
"That's the fairy tale I'm going to tell." Curly Dane said.
What did Petunia tell?
An old castle loomed up a narrow mountain road. Its old red walls were covered with dense ivy. Leaf after leaf climbed up the balcony. On the balcony stood a beautiful girl. She bent over the railing and glanced down the road. No blossom on any rose branch was as bright as hers. No apple blossom blowing in the wind was as light as hers. Her beautiful silk dress made a crisp rustling sound!
"Has he not come yet?"
"You mean Gaj?" Tiny Gerda asked.
"I was just telling my fairy tale - my dream!" Petunia replied.
What did the snowball flower tell?
There was a long plank hanging from a rope between the trees. It was a swing. Two pretty little girls, dressed as white as snow and wearing hats with long green ribbons floating from them, were sitting on it and playing on the swing. Their brother stood on the swing, holding the rope with his arm to steady himself, for he held a little saucer in one hand and a clay pipe in the other. He was blowing soap bubbles. The swing flew up and so did the colorful and beautiful soap bubbles. The last of the soap bubbles was still hanging from the bong, swaying in the wind. The swing was flying; a little black dog, as light as a soap bubble, stood up on its hind legs and tried to climb on top of the swing. The swing continued to fly, and the little dog rolled off, barking and sulking. Everyone laughed at it and the soap bubble burst. A flying swing board and a burst bubble - that's my song!
"This tale you tell may be very moving, but you tell it so poignantly, and you don't mention tiny Gaj."
What did Hyacinth tell?
Once upon a time there were three beautiful, transparent, dainty sisters. The first was dressed in red, the second in blue, and the third in white. They danced arm in arm by a silent lake in the bright moonlight. They were not mountain demons. They were daughters of earth. The air was filled with a sweet fragrance! These girls faded away in the woods. So the aroma became stronger. Three coffins - in which lay these three beautiful girls - floated from the trees to the lake. Fireflies flew over them like little flying lights. These dancing girls were sleeping, or dead. The scent of the flowers said they were dead, while the twilight bells made a mournful sound!
"You make me feel strangely sad," said little Gerda, "and you give out such a strong fragrance that I cannot help but think of the dead girls. Hey, is it true that Tiny Gaj is dead? The roses once went to the ground and looked, and they said no."
"Ding! Dang!" Hyacinth's bell rang. "We're not ringing for little Gaj - we don't know him! We're just singing our song - the only song we know."
Gerda walked over to the golden phoenix flower. The flower smiled in its glittering green leaves.
"You are a shining little sun," said Gerda. "Please tell me, if you know, where I can find my playmate?"
The golden phoenix flower radiated a beautiful glow and looked Gerda over again. What song would the golden phoenix flower sing? The song had nothing to do with Ghai.
In a small compound, the sun of our God shone warmly on the first day of spring. Its rays glide over the white walls of the neighboring house. Nearby, the first yellow flowers bloomed, glowing like gold in the warm sunlight. The old grandmother was sitting in a chair outside the door, and her granddaughter-a very beautiful poor little girl-was coming back to the house for a short visit. She kissed her grandmother. There was gold hidden in this happy kiss, gold in the heart. The lips are gold, the whole body is gold, and this morning moment is gold. This yah! This is my story!
Golden Phoenix Flower said.
"My poor old grandmother!" Gerda said with a sigh. "Yes, she must be missing me and worrying about me, just as she was worrying about little Gaj. But I am going home soon, and taking Gaj with me. There is no use in prying into these flowers at all. They only know how to sing their own songs, and can't tell me a bit of news!" So she tied up her little smock in order that she might run faster. But as she jumped over the daffodils, the flowers tripped her legs. She stopped to look at the long flower and asked, "Perhaps you know a bit of news?"
So she bent down to this flower. What did this flower tell?
I can see myself! I can see myself! My days! My God! How I smell! Inside that tiny penthouse stood a tiny, half-naked dancer: one moment she stood on one leg, the next on two. She danced on her heels over the whole world. She was nothing but an illusion. She poured water from a teapot onto one of her cloths-it was her tight blouse-the love of cleanliness was a good habit! Her white gown hangs on a peg. It, too, had been washed in the teapot and dried on the roof: she wore it, while an orange-colored bandana around her neckline set it off even whiter. Her legs teeter. Look at the way she stands on one leg. I can see myself! I can see myself!
"That doesn't interest me at all!" Gerda said. "It doesn't interest me at all!" So she ran to the end of the garden. The door was locked. But she twisted the rusty lock, and it came loose, and the door opened of its own accord. So little Gerda came running outside on her bare feet. She looked back three times, and no one was chasing her. At last she could run no longer, so she sat down on a big rock. When she looked around, summer was over-it was late fall. One could not notice the event in that beautiful garden - there was always sunlight there, and always flowers for all seasons.
"Ahem! How much light I have delayed!" Tiny Gerda said. "It is autumn already! I cannot rest any longer!" So she stood up and continued on. Oh! how sore and tired her little feet were! All around was a cold and gloomy landscape. The leaves of the willows had yellowed, and the mist was turning into drops of water down over them. The leaves were rustling down. Only the hawthorn bore fruit, so sour that it made the teeth fall out. Ah! How gray and bleak is this bewildering world!
1st Danish name for length, equal to 0.627 meters.
Fourth Story The Prince and the Princess
Gerda had to rest again. On the opposite side of the spot where she was sitting, a large raven hopped across the snow. The raven had been sitting for a long time, staring at her, turning its head. Now it said, "Quack! Caw! Good day! Good day!" It was the only sound it could make, and for this little girl it was wistful. It asked her where she wanted to go in this big, vast world alone. Gerda understood the meaning of the word "alone" very well. She told the raven all about her life and what had happened to her, and asked it if it had seen Ghai.
The raven nodded thoughtfully and said,
"Maybe! Might have seen it!"
"What, you actually saw it?" The little girl cawed, almost smothering the raven with her arms around it - she was kissing it so passionately.
"Gently! Gently!" The raven said. "I believe that might be tiny Gaj! But he forgot about you because of that princess!"
"Does he live with a princess?" Gerda asked.
"Yes, please listen!" U