Bedtime Tale: The Snow Queen In 7 Parts: Parts 1 And 2

The Snow Queen in Seven Stories by Hans Christian Andersen Story the First which describes a looking glass and the broken fragments.

You must attend to the commencement of this story,

For when we get to the end we shall know more than we do now about a very wicked hobgoblin.

He was one of the very worst,

For he was a real demon.

One day,

When he was in a merry mood,

He made a looking glass,

Which had the power of making everything good or beautiful that was reflected in it almost shrink to nothing,

While everything that was worthless and bad looked increased in size and worse than ever.

The most lovely landscapes appeared like boiled spinach,

And the people became hideous and looked as if they stood on their heads and had no bodies.

Their countenances were so distorted that no one could recognize them,

And even one freckle on the face appeared to spread over the whole of the nose and mouth.

The demon said this was very amusing,

When a good or pious thought passed through the mind of anyone it was misrepresented in the glass,

And then how the demon laughed at his cunning invention.

All who went to the demon's school,

For he kept his school,

Talked everywhere of the wonders they had seen,

And declared that people could now,

For the first time,

See what the world and mankind were really like.

They carried the glass about everywhere,

Till at last there was not a land nor a people who had not been looked at through this distorted mirror.

They wanted even to fly with it up to heaven to see the angels,

But the higher they flew,

The more slippery the glass became,

And they could scarcely hold it till at last it slipped from their hands,

Fell to the earth,

And was broken into millions of pieces.

But now the looking glass caused more unhappiness than ever,

For some of the fragments were not so large as a grain of sand,

And they flew about the world and to every country.

When one of these tiny atoms flew into a person's eye,

It stuck there unknown to him,

And from that moment he saw everything through a distorted medium,

Or could see only the worse side of what he looked at,

For even the smallest fragment retained the same power,

Which had belonged to the whole mirror.

Some few persons even got a fragment of the looking glass in their hearts,

And this was very terrible,

For their hearts became cold,

Like a lump of ice.

A few of the pieces were so large that they could be used as window panes.

It would have been a sad thing to look out our friends through them.

Other pieces were made into spectacles.

This was dreadful for those who wore them,

For they could see nothing rightly or justly.

At all this the wicked demon laughed till his sides shook.

It tickled him so to see the mischief he had done.

There were still a number of these little fragments of glass floating about in the air,

And now you shall hear what happened with one of them.

Second Story A Little Boy and a Little Girl In a large town full of houses and people,

There is not room for everybody to have a little garden.

Therefore,

They are obliged to be satisfied with a few flowers and flower pots.

In one of these large towns lived two poor children who had a garden,

Something larger and better than a few flower pots.

They were not brother and sister,

But they loved each other almost as much as if they had been.

Their parents lived opposite to each other in two garrets,

Where the roofs of neighboring houses projected out towards each other and the water pipe ran between them.

In each house was a little window so that anyone could step across the gutter from one window to the other.

The parents of these children had each a large wooden box in which they cultivated kitchen herbs for their own use,

And a little rose bush in each box,

Which grew splendidly.

Now,

After a while,

The parents decided to place these two boxes across the water pipe so that they reached from one window to the other and looked like two banks of flowers.

Sweet peas drooped over the boxes,

And the rose bushes shot forth long branches which were trained round the windows and clustered together almost like a triumphal arc of leaves and flowers.

The boxes were very high,

And the children knew they must not climb upon them without permission.

But they were often,

However,

Allowed to step out together and sit upon their little stools under the rose bushes or play quietly.

In winter,

All this pleasure came to an end,

For the windows were sometimes quite frozen over.

But then they would warm copper pennies on the stove and hold the warm pennies against the frozen pane.

There would be very soon a little round hole through which they could peep,

And the soft bright eyes of the little boy and girl would beam through the hole at each window as they looked at each other.

Their names were Kay and Gerda.

In summer they could be together with one jump from the window,

But in winter they had to go up and down the long staircase and out through the snow before they could meet.

See,

There are the white bees swarming,

Said Kay's old grandmother one day when it was snowing.

Have they a bee queen?

Cried the little boy,

For he knew that real bees had a queen.

To be sure they have,

Said the grandmother.

She is flying there where the swarm is thickest.

She is the largest of them all,

And never remains on the earth but flies up to the dark clouds.

Often at midnight she flies through the streets of town and looks in at the windows.

Then the ice freezes on the panes into wonderful shapes that look like flowers and castles.

Yes,

I have seen them,

Said both the children,

And they knew it 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 stove and then she'll melt.

Then the grandmother smoothed his hair and told him some more tales.

One evening,

When little Kay was at home,

Half undressed,

He climbed on a chair by the window and peeped out through the little hole.

A few flakes of snow were falling,

And one of them,

Rather larger than the rest,

Alighted on the edge of one of the flower boxes.

This snowflake grew larger and larger till at last it became the figure of a woman,

Dressed in garments of white gauze,

Which looked like millions of starry snowflakes linked together.

She was fair and beautiful,

But made of ice,

Shining and glittering ice.

Still,

She was alive and her eyes sparkled like bright stars,

But there was neither peace nor rest in their glance.

She nodded towards the window and waved her hand.

The little boy was frightened and sprang from the chair.

At the same moment,

It seemed as if a large bird flew by the window.

On the following day,

There was a clear frost,

And very soon came the spring.

The sun shone,

The young green leaves burst forth,

And swallows built their nests.

Windows were opened,

And the children sat once more in the garden on the roof,

High above all the other rooms.

How beautiful the roses blossomed this summer!

The little girl had learned a hymn in which roses were spoken of,

And then she thought of her 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 the roses,

And looked at the bright sunshine,

And spoke to it as if the Christ child were there.

Those were splendid summer days.

How beautiful and fresh it was out among the rose bushes,

Which seemed as if they would never leave off blooming.

One day Kay and Gerda sat looking at a book full of pictures of animals and birds,

And then just as the clock in the church tower struck twelve,

Kay said,

Oh,

Something has struck my heart,

And then soon after,

There is something in my eye.

The little girl put her arm around his neck,

And looked into his eye,

But she could see nothing.

I think it is gone,

He said,

But it was not gone.

It was one of those bits of the looking glass,

That magic mirror of which we have spoken,

The ugly glass which made everything great and good appear small and ugly,

While all that was wicked and bad became more visible,

And every little fault could be plainly seen.

Poor little Kay had also received a small grain in his heart,

Which very quickly turned to a lump of ice.

He felt no more pain,

But the glass was still there.

Why do you cry?

Said he at last.

It makes you look ugly.

There is nothing the matter with me now.

Oh,

See,

He cried suddenly,

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 two roses.

Kay,

What are you doing?

Cried the little girl,

And then when he saw how frightened she was,

He tore off another rose,

And jumped through his own window,

Away from little Gerda.

When she afterwards brought out the picture book,

He said,

It was only fit for babies in long clothes,

And when grandmother told any stories,

He would interpret her with but,

Or when he could manage it,

He would get behind her chair,

Put on her pair of spectacles,

And imitate her very cleverly,

To make people laugh.

By and by he began to mimic the speech,

And gates of persons in the street.

All that was peculiar,

Or disagreeable in a person he would imitate directly,

And people said,

That boy will be very clever,

He has a remarkable genius.

But it was the piece of glass in his eye,

And the coldness in his heart,

That made him act like this.

He would even tease little Gerda,

Who loved him with all her heart.

His games too were quite different now,

They were not so childish.

One winter's day when it snowed,

He brought out a burning glass.

Then he held out the tail of his blue coat,

And let the snowflakes fall upon it.

Look in this glass Gerda,

Said he,

And she saw how every flake of snow was magnified,

And looked like a beautiful flower,

Or a glittering star.

Is it not clever,

Said Kay,

And much more interesting than looking at real flowers.

There is not a single fault in it,

And the snowflakes are quite perfect,

Till they begin to melt.

Soon after Kay made his appearance,

In large thick gloves,

And with his sledge at his back.

He called upstairs to Gerda,

I've got to leave to go into the great square,

Where the other boys play and ride.

And away he went.

In the great square,

The boldest among the boys,

Would often tie their sledges,

To the country people's carts,

And go with them a good way.

This was capital.

But while they were all amusing themselves,

And Kay with them,

A great sledge came by.

It was painted white,

And in it sat someone wrapped in a rough white fur,

And wearing a white cap.

The sledge drove twice around the square,

And Kay fastened his own little sledge to it,

So that when it went away,

He followed with it.

It went faster and faster,

Right through the next street.

And then the person who drove,

Turned around and nodded pleasantly to Kay,

Just as if they were acquainted with each other.

But whenever Kay wished to loosen his little sledge,

The driver nodded again.

So Kay sat still,

And they drove out,

Through the town gate.

Then the snow began to fall so heavily,

That the little boy could not see a hand's breath before him,

But still they drove on.

Then he suddenly loosened the cord,

So that the large sled might go on without him.

But it was of no use.

His little carriage held fast,

And away they went like the wind.

Then he called out loudly,

But nobody heard him,

While the snow beat upon him,

And the sledge flew onwards.

Every now and then it gave a jump,

As if it were going over hedges and ditches.

The boy was frightened,

And tried to say a prayer,

But he could remember nothing but the multiplication table.

The snowflakes became larger and larger,

Till they appeared like great white chickens.

All at once they sprang on one side.

The great sledge stopped,

And the person who had driven it rose up.

The fur and the cap,

Which were made entirely of snow,

Fell off,

And he saw a lady,

Tall and white.

It was the Snow Queen.

We have driven well,

Said she,

But why do you tremble?

Here,

Creep into my warm fur.

Then she seated him beside her in the sledge,

And as she wrapped the fur around him,

He felt as if he were sinking into a snowdrift.

Are you still cold?

She asked,

As she kissed him on the forehead.

The kiss was colder than ice.

It went quite through to his heart,

Which was already almost a lump of ice.

He felt as if he were going to die,

But only for a moment.

He soon seemed quite well again,

And did not notice the cold around him.

My sledge,

Don't forget my sledge,

Was his first thought,

And he looked and saw that it was bound fast to one of the white chickens,

Which flew behind him with the sledge at its back.

The Snow Queen kissed little Kay again,

And by this time he had forgotten little Gerda,

His grandmother,

And all at home.

Now you must have no more kisses,

She said,

Or I shall kiss you to death.

Kay looked at her and saw that she was so beautiful,

He could not imagine a more lovely,

Intelligent face.

She did not now seem to be made of ice,

As when he had seen her through his window,

And she had nodded to him.

In his eyes,

She was perfect,

And he did not feel at all afraid.

He told her he could do mental arithmetic,

As far as fractions,

And that he knew the number of square miles,

And the number of inhabitants in the country.

And she always smiled so that he thought he did not know enough yet.

And she looked round the vast expanse as she flew higher and higher with him upon a black cloud,

While the storm blew and howled as if it were singing old songs.

They flew over woods and lakes,

Over sea and land.

Below them roared the wild wind.

The wolves howled and the snow crackled.

Over them flew the black screaming crows,

And above all shone the moon,

Clear and bright.

And so Kay passed through the long winter's night,

And by day he slept at the feet of the Snow Queen.

And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.