[Hamilton_Wright_Mabie_(editor)]_A_Collection_of_C(BookFi.org).pdf

7/25/2019 [Hamilton_Wright_Mabie_(editor)]_A_Collection_of_C(BookFi.org).pdf

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Contents

Front Matter .................................................3

itle Page ..................................................3Publisher Information ................................4

Te Stories ....................................................5A Childs Dream of a Star ..........................5Te King of the Golden River ......................9

Te Snow-Image ......................................36Undine ....................................................53Te Story of Ruth ...................................130Te Great Stone Face ..............................137Te Nrnberg Stove ................................157Rab and his Friends ...............................206Peter Rugg, the Missing Man ..................220

Back Matter ..............................................231Also Available ........................................231


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A COLLECION OF CLASSICSORIES FOR CHILDREN

Edited by

Hamilton Wright Mabie


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Publisher Information

Tis electronic version published in 2011 byAndrews UK Limited

www.andrewsuk.com

Tis edited version, including layout, typography, additions totext, cover artwork and other unique factors is copyright AndrewsUK 2010. No part of this digital publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by

any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording orotherwise without written permission of the copyright owner.
http://www.andrewsuk.com/http://www.andrewsuk.com/


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A Childs Dream of a Star

Tere was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, andthought of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a childtoo, and his constant companion. Tese two used to wonder all daylong. Tey wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered atthe height and blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth ofthe bright water; they wondered at the goodness and the power ofGod who made the lovely world.

Tey used to say to one another, sometimes, supposing all thechildren upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water,and the sky be sorry? Tey believed they would be sorry. For, saidthey, the buds are the children of the flowers, and the little playfulstreams that gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the

water; and the smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in

the sky all night, must surely be the children of the stars; and theywould all be grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, nomore.

Tere was one clear shining star that used to come out in thesky before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It waslarger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, andevery night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window.

Whoever saw it first cried out, I see the star! And often they criedout both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where.So they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down intheir beds, they always looked out once again, to bid it good-night;and when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, Godbless the star!

But while she was still very young, oh very, very young, the sisterdrooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer standin the window at night; and then the child looked sadly out byhimself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to thepatient pale face on the bed, I see the star! and then a smile wouldcome upon the face, and a little weak voice used to say, God bless


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my brother and the star!And so the time came all too soon! When the child looked out

alone, and when there was no face on the bed; and when there wasa little grave among the graves, not there before; and when the star

made long rays down toward him, as he saw it through his tears.Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such

a shining way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went tohis solitary bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying

where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling roadby angels. And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light,

where many more such angels waited to receive them.All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyesupon the people who were carried up into the star; and some cameout from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon thepeoples necks, and kissed them tenderly, and went away with themdown avenues of light, and were so happy in their company, thatlying in his bed he wept for joy.

But, there were many angels who did not go with them, andamong them one he knew. Te patient face that once had lain uponthe bed was glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sisteramong all the host.

His sisters angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and saidto the leader among those who had brought the people thither:

Is my brother come?And he said No.She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out

his arms, and cried, O, sister, I am here! ake me! and then sheturned her beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star

was shining into the room, making long rays down towards him ashe saw it through his tears.

From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star ason the home he was to go to, when his time should come; and hethought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the startoo, because of his sisters angel gone before.


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Tere was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while hewas so little that he never yet had spoken word he stretched his tinyform out on his bed, and died.

Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company

of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with theirbeaming eyes all turned upon those peoples faces.

Said his sisters angel to the leader:Is my brother come?

And he said Not that one, but another.As the child beheld his brothers angel in her arms, he cried, O,

sister, I am here! ake me! And she turned and smiled upon him,and the star was shining.He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books when an

old servant came to him and said:Ty mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son!

Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Saidhis sisters angel to the leader:

Is my brother come?And he said, Ty mother!A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the

mother was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out hisarms and cried, O, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! akeme! And they answered him, Not yet, and the star was shining.

He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning grey, and he wassitting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his facebedewed with tears, when the star opened once again.

Said his sisters angel to the leader: Is my brother come?And he said, Nay, but his maiden daughter.And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly

lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said, Mydaughters head is on my sisters bosom, and her arm is around mymothers neck, and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and Ican bear the parting from her, God be praised!

And the star was shining.


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Tus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth facewas wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back wasbent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standinground, he cried, as he had cried so long ago:

I see the star!Tey whispered one to another, He is dying.

And he said, I am. My age is falling from me like a garment,and I move towards the star as a child. And O, my Father, now Ithank Tee that it has so often opened, to receive those dear ones

who await me!

And the star was shining, and it shines upon his grave.


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Te King of the Golden River

IIn a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was, in oldtime, a valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It wassurrounded, on all sides, by steep and rocky mountains, rising intopeaks, which were always covered with snow, and from which anumber of torrents descended in constant cataracts. One of these

fell westward, over the face of a crag so high, that, when the sunhad set to everything else, and all below was darkness, his beamsstill shone full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like a shower ofgold. It was, therefore, called by the people of the neighbourhood,the Golden River. It was strange that none of these streams fellinto the valley itself. Tey all descended on the other side of the

mountains, and wound away through broad plains and by populouscities. But the clouds were drawn so constantly to the snowy hills,and rested so softly in the circular hollow, that in time of droughtand heat, when all the country round was burnt up, there was stillrain in the little valley; and its crops were so heavy, and its hay sohigh, and its apples so red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine sorich, and its honey so sweet that it was a marvel to everyone who

beheld it, and was commonly called the reasure Valley.Te whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers called

Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elderbrothers, were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows andsmall, dull eyes, which were always half shut, so that you couldntsee into them, and always fancied they saw very far into you. Tey

lived by farming the reasure Valley, and very good farmers theywere. Tey killed everything that did not pay for its eating. Teyshot the blackbirds, because they pecked the fruit; and killed thehedgehogs, lest they should suck the cows; they poisoned thecrickets for eating the crumbs in the kitchen; and smothered the


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cicadas, which used to sing all summer in the lime-trees. Teyworked their servants without any wages, till they would not workanymore, and then quarrelled with them, and turned them out ofdoors without paying them. It would have been very odd, if with

such a farm, and such a system of farming, they hadnt got very rich;and very rich they didget. Tey generally contrived to keep theircorn by them till it was very dear, and then sell it for twice its value;they had heaps of gold lying about on their floors, yet it was neverknown that they had given so much as a penny or a crust in charity;they never went to mass; grumbled perpetually at paying tithes; and

were, in a word, of so cruel and grinding a temper, as to receivefrom all those with whom they had any dealings the nickname ofthe Black Brothers.

Te youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, inboth appearance and character, to his seniors as could possiblybe imagined or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair,blue-eyed, and kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of

course, agree particularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they didnot agree with him. He was usually appointed to the honourableoffice of turnspit, when there was anything to roast, which was notoften; for, to do the brothers justice, they were hardly less sparingupon themselves than upon other people. At other times he usedto clean the shoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally

getting what was left on them, by way of encouragement, and awholesome quantity of dry blows, by way of education.

Tings went on in this manner for a long time. At last camea very wet summer, and everything went wrong in the countryaround. Te hay had hardly been got in, when the hay-stacks werefloated bodily down to the sea by an inundation; the vines werecut to pieces with the hail; the corn was all killed by a black blight;only in the reasure Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had rain

when there was rain nowhere else, so it had sun when there was sunnowhere else. Everybody came to buy corn at the farm, and wentaway pouring maledictions on the Black Brothers. Tey asked whatthey liked, and got it, except from the poor, who could only beg,


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and several of whom were starved at their very door, without theslightest regard or notice.

It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when oneday the two elder brothers had gone out, with their usual warning

to little Gluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he was to letnobody in, and give nothing out. Gluck sat down quite close tothe fire, for it was raining very hard, and the kitchen walls wereby no means dry or comfortable-looking. He turned and turned,and the roast got nice and brown. What a pity, thought Gluck,my brothers never ask anybody to dinner. Im sure, when theyve

got such a nice piece of mutton as this, and nobody else has got somuch as a piece of dry bread, it would do their hearts good to havesomebody to eat it with them.

Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house door,yet heavy and dull, as though the knocker had been tied up - morelike a puff than a knock.

It must be the wind, said Gluck; nobody else would venture

to knock double knocks at our door.No; it wasnt the wind: there it came again very hard, and what

was particularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry,and not to be in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went tothe window, opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.

It was the most extraordinary looking little gentleman he had

ever seen in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-coloured;his cheeks were very round, and very red, and might have warranteda supposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the lasteight and forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long silkyeyelashes, his moustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew oneach side of his mouth, and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt colour, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four-feet-six in height, and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the samealtitude, decorated with a black feather some three feet long. Hisdoublet was prolonged behind into something resembling a violentexaggeration of what is now termed a swallow-tail, but was muchobscured by the swelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking


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cloak, which must have been very much too long in calm weather,as the wind, whistling round the old house, carried it clear out fromthe wearers shoulders to about four times his own length.

Gluck was so perfectly paralysed by the singular appearance of

his visitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until theold gentleman, having performed another, and a more energeticconcerto on the knocker, turned round to look after his fly-awaycloak. In so doing he caught sight of Glucks little yellow head

jammed in the window, with its mouth and eyes very wide openindeed.

Hello! said the little gentleman, thats not the way to answerthe door. Im wet, let me in.o do the little gentleman justice, he waswet. His feather hung

down between his legs like a beaten puppys tail, dripping likean umbrella; and from the ends of his moustaches the water wasrunning into his waistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.

I beg pardon, sir, said Gluck, Im very sorry, but I really cant.

Cant what? said the old gentleman.I cant let you in, sir - I cant indeed; my brothers would beat me

to death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?Want? said the old gentleman, petulantly, I want fire, and

shelter; and theres your great fire there blazing, crackling, anddancing on the walls, with nobody to feel it Let me in, I say; I only

want to warm myself.Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window

that he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and whenhe turned, and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, andthrowing long bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were lickingits chops at the savoury smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted

within him that it should be burning away for nothing. He doeslook verywet, said little Gluck; Ill just let him in for a quarterof an hour. Round he went to the door, and opened it; and as thelittle gentleman walked in, there came a gust of wind through thehouse, that made the old chimneys totter.


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Tats a good boy, said the little gentleman. Never mind yourbrothers. Ill talk to them.

Pray, sir, dont do any such thing, said Gluck. I cant let youstay till they come; theyd be the death of me.

Dear me, said the old gentleman, Im very sorry to hear that.How long may I stay?

Only till the muttons done, sir, replied Gluck, and its verybrown.

Ten the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat himselfdown on the hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the

chimney, for it was a great deal too high for the roof.Youll soon dry there, sir, said Gluck, and sat down again toturn the mutton. But the old gentleman did notdry there, but wenton drip, drip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed, andsputtered, and began to look very black, and uncomfortable: never

was such a cloak; every fold in it ran like a gutter.I beg pardon, sir, said Gluck at length, after watching the

water spreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor for aquarter of an hour; maynt I take your cloak?

No, thank you, said the old gentleman.Your cap, sir?I am all right, thank you, said the old gentleman rather gruffly.But - sir - Im very sorry, said Gluck, hesitatingly; but - really,

sir - youre - putting the fire out.Itll take longer to do the mutton, then, replied his visitor

dryly.Gluck was very much puzzled by the behaviour of his guest, it

was such a strange mixture of coolness and humility. He turnedaway at the string meditatively for another five minutes.

Tat mutton looks very nice, said the old gentleman at length.Cant you give me a little bit?

Impossible, sir, said Gluck.Im very hungry, continued the old gentleman. Ive had

nothing to eat yesterday, nor to-day. Tey surely couldnt miss a bitfrom the knuckle!


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He spoke in so very melancholy a tone, that it quite meltedGlucks heart. Tey promised me one slice to-day, sir, said he; Ican give you that, but not a bit more.

Tats a good boy, said the old gentleman again.

Ten Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife. I dont careif I do get beaten for it, thought he. Just as he had cut a large sliceout of the mutton there came a tremendous rap at the door. Teold gentleman jumped off the hob, as if it had suddenly becomeinconveniently warm. Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again,

with desperate efforts at exactitude, and ran to open the door.

What did you keep us waiting in the rain for? said Schwartz,as he walked in, throwing his umbrella in Glucks face. Ay! Whatfor, indeed, you little vagabond? said Hans, administering aneducational box on the ear, as he followed his brother into thekitchen.

Bless my soul! said Schwartz when he opened the door.Amen, said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off,

and was standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with theutmost possible velocity.

Whos that? said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, andturning to Gluck with a fierce frown.

I dont know, indeed, brother, said Gluck in great terror.How did he get in? roared Schwartz.

My dear brother, said Gluck, deprecatingly, he wasso verywet!

Te rolling-pin was descending on Glucks head; but at theinstant, the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on whichit crashed with a shock that shook the water out of it all over theroom. What was very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched thecap than it flew out of Schwartzs hand, spinning like a straw in ahigh wind, and fell into the corner at the further end of the room.

Who are you, sir? demanded Schwartz, turning upon him.Whats your business? snarled Hans.Im a poor old man, sir, the little gentleman began very

modestly, and I saw your fire through the window, and begged


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shelter for a quarter of an hour.Have the goodness to walk out again, then, said Schwartz.

Weve quite enough water in our kitchen, without making it adrying-house.

It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my greyhairs. Tey hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.

Ay! said Hans, there are enough of them to keep you warm.Walk!

Im very, very hungry, sir; couldnt you spare me a bit of breadbefore I go?

Bread indeed! said Schwartz; do you suppose weve nothing todo with our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?Why dont you sell your feather? said Hans, sneeringly. Out

with you!A little bit, said the old gentleman.Be off! said Schwartz.Pray, gentlemen -

Off, and be hanged! cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. Buthe had no sooner touched the old gentlemans collar, than away he

went after the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fellinto the corner on the top of it. Ten Schwartz was very angry, andran at the old gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardlytouched him, when away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin,

and hit his head against the wall as he tumbled into the corner. Andso there they lay, all three.

Ten the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in theopposite direction; continued to spin until his long cloak was all

wound neatly about him; clapped his cap on his head, very muchon one side (for it could not stand upright without going throughthe ceiling), gave an additional twist to his corkscrew moustaches,and replied with perfect coolness: Gentlemen, I wish you a verygood morning. At twelve oclock to-night Ill call again; after sucha refusal of hospitality as I have just experienced, you will not besurprised if that visit is the last I ever pay you.


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If ever I catch you here again, muttered Schwartz, cominghalf frightened out of his corner - but, before he could finish hissentence, the old gentleman had shut the house door behind him

with a great bang: and there drove past the window, at the same

instant, a wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled awaydown the valley in all manner of shapes; turning over and over inthe air, and melting away at last in a gush of rain.

A very pretty business, indeed, Mr Gluck! said Schwartz. Dishthe mutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again - bless me,

why, the muttons been cut!

You promised me one slice, brother, you know, said Gluck.Oh! And you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catchall the gravy. Itll be long before I promise you such a thing again.Leave the room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellartill I call you.

Gluck left the room melancholy enough. Te brothers ate asmuch mutton as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard and

proceeded to get very drunk after dinner.Such a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing rain, without

intermission. Te brothers had just sense enough left to put up allthe shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed.Tey usually slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve,they were both awakened by a tremendous crash. Teir door burst

open with a violence that shook the house from top to bottom.Whats that? cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.Only I, said the little gentleman.Te two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the

darkness. Te room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam,which found its way through a hole in the shutter, they could seein the midst of it an enormous foam globe, spinning round, andbobbing up and down like a cork, on which, as on a most luxuriouscushion, reclined the little old gentleman, cap and all. Tere wasplenty of room for it now, for the roof was off.

Sorry to incommode you, said their visitor, ironically. Imafraid your beds are dampish; perhaps you had better go to your


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brothers room: Ive left the ceiling on, there.Tey required no second admonition, but rushed into Glucks

room, wet through, and in an agony of terror.Youll find my card on the kitchen table, the old gentleman

called after them. Remember the lastvisit.Pray Heaven it may! said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam

globe disappeared.Dawn came at last and the two brothers looked out of Glucks

little window in the morning. Te reasure Valley was one mass ofruin and desolation. Te inundation had swept away trees, crops,

and cattle, and left in their stead a waste of red sand and grey mud.Te two brothers crept shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen.Te water had gutted the whole first floor; corn, money, almostevery movable thing, had been swept away and there was left only asmall white card on the kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters, were engraved the words: South-West Wind, Esquire.


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II

Southwest Wind, Esquire, was as good as his word. After the

momentous visit above related, he entered the reasure Valley nomore; and, what was worse, he had so much influence with hisrelations, the West Winds in general, and used it so effectually, thatthey all adopted a similar line of conduct. So no rain fell in thevalley from one years end to another. Tough everything remainedgreen and flourishing in the plains below, the inheritance of theTree Brothers was a desert. What had once been the richest soil inthe kingdom, became a shifting heap of red sand; and the brothers,unable longer to contend with the adverse skies, abandoned theirvalueless patrimony in despair, to seek some means of gaininga livelihood among the cities and people of the plains. All theirmoney was gone, and they had nothing left but some curious, old-fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of their ill-gotten

wealth.Suppose we turn goldsmiths? said Schwartz to Hans, as they

entered the large city. It is a good knaves trade; we can put a greatdeal of copper into the gold, without any ones finding it out.

Te thought was agreed to be a very good one; they hired afurnace, and turned goldsmiths. But two slight circumstances

affected their trade: the first, that people did not approve of thecoppered gold; the second, that the two elder brothers, wheneverthey had sold anything, used to leave little Gluck to mind thefurnace, and go and drink out the money in the ale-house nextdoor. So they melted all their gold, without making money enoughto buy more, and were at last reduced to one large drinking-mug,

which an uncle of his had given to little Gluck, and which he was

very fond of, and would not have parted with for the world; thoughhe never drank anything out of it but milk and water. Te mug wasa very odd mug to look at. Te handle was formed of two wreathsof flowing golden hair, so finely spun that it looked more like silkthan metal, and these wreaths descended into, and mixed with,


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a beard and whiskers of the same exquisite workmanship, whichsurrounded and decorated a very fierce little face, of the reddestgold imaginable, right in the front of the mug, with a pair of eyesin it which seemed to command its whole circumference. It was

impossible to drink out of the mug without being subjected to anintense gaze out of the side of these eyes; and Schwartz positivelyaverred, that once, after emptying it, full of Rhenish, seventeentimes, he had seen them wink! When it came to the mugs turn tobe made into spoons, it half broke poor little Glucks heart: but thebrothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting-pot,

and staggered out to the ale-house: leaving him, as usual, to pourthe gold into bars, when it was all ready.When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his old

friend in the melting-pot. Te flowing hair was all gone; nothingremained but the red nose, and the sparkling eyes, which lookedmore malicious than ever. And no wonder, thought Gluck, afterbeing treated in that way. He sauntered disconsolately to the

window, and sat himself down to catch the fresh evening air, andescape the hot breath of the furnace. Now this window commandeda direct view of the range of mountains, which, as I told before,overhung the reasure Valley, and more especially of the peak from

which fell the Golden River. It was just at the close of the day,and when Gluck sat down at the window he saw the rocks of the

mountain tops, all crimson and purple with the sunset; and therewere bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and quivering aboutthem; and the river, brighter than all, fell, in a waving column ofpure gold, from precipice to precipice, with the double arch of abroad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing and fadingalternately in the wreaths of spray.

Ah! said Gluck aloud, after he had looked at it for a while, ifthat river were really all gold, what a nice thing it would be.

No it wouldnt, Gluck, said a clear, metallic voice close at hisear.

Bless me! Whats that? exclaimed Gluck, jumping up. Terewas nobody there. He looked round the room, and under the table,


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and a great many times behind him, but there was certainly nobodythere, and he sat down again at the window. Tis time he didntspeak, but he couldnt help thinking again that it would be veryconvenient if the river were really all gold.

Not at all, my boy, said the same voice, louder than before.Bless me! said Gluck again; what is that? He looked again

into all the corners and cupboards, and then began turning round,and round, as fast as he could in the middle of the room, thinkingthere was somebody behind him, when the same voice struck againon his ear. It was singing now very merrily, Lala-lira-la; no words,

only a soft running, effervescent melody, something like that ofa kettle on the boil. Gluck looked out of the window. No, it wascertainly in the house. Upstairs, and downstairs. No, it was certainlyin that very room, coming in quicker time, and clearer notes, everymoment. Lala-lira-la. All at once it struck Gluck that it soundedlouder near the furnace. He ran to the opening, and looked in: yes,he saw right; it seemed to be coming, not only out of the furnace,

but out of the pot. He uncovered it, and ran back in a great fright,for the pot was certainly singing! He stood in the farthest cornerof the room, with his hands up, and his mouth open, for a minuteor two, when the singing stopped, and the voice became clear andpronunciative.

Hello! said the voice.

Gluck made no answer.Hello! Gluck, my boy, said the pot again.Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to the

crucible, drew it out of the furnace, and looked in. Te gold was allmelted, and its surface as smooth and polished as a river; but insteadof reflecting little Glucks head, as he looked in, he saw meeting hisglance from beneath the gold the red nose and sharp eyes of his oldfriend of the mug, a thousand times redder and sharper than ever hehad seen them in his life.

Come, Gluck, my boy, said the voice out of the pot again, Imall right; pour me out.


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But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of the kind.Pour me out, I say, said the voice rather gruffly.Still Gluck couldnt move.Will you pour me out? said the voice passionately. Im too

hot.By a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, took

hold of the crucible, and sloped it so as to pour out the gold. Butinstead of a liquid stream, there came out, first, a pair of pretty littleyellow legs, then some coat tails, then a pair of arms stuck akimbo,and, finally, the well-known head of his friend the mug; all which

articles, uniting as they rolled out, stood up energetically on thefloor, in the shape of a little golden dwarf, about a foot and a halfhigh.

Tats right! said the dwarf, stretching out first his legs, andthen his arms, and then shaking his head up and down, and as farround as it would go, for five minutes without stopping; apparently

with the view of ascertaining if he were quite correctly put together,

while Gluck stood contemplating him in speechless amazement.He was dressed in a stashed doublet of spun gold, so fine in itstexture, that the prismatic colours gleamed over it, as if on a surfaceof mother-of-pearl; and, over this brilliant doublet, his hair andbeard fell full halfway to the ground, in waving curls, so exquisitelydelicate that Gluck could hardly tell where they ended; they seemed

to melt into air. Te features of the face, however, were by no meansfinished with the same delicacy; they were rather coarse, slightlyinclining to coppery in complexion, and indicative, in expression,of a very pertinacious and intractable disposition in their smallproprietor. When the dwarf had finished his self-examination, heturned his small eyes full on Gluck, and stared at him deliberatelyfor a minute or two. No, it wouldnt, Gluck, my boy, said thelittle man.

Tis was certainly rather an abrupt and unconnected mode ofcommencing conversation. It might indeed be supposed to refer tothe course of Glucks thoughts, which had first produced the dwarf sobservations out of the pot; but whatever it referred to, Gluck had


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no inclination to dispute the dictum.Wouldnt it, sir? said Gluck, very mildly and submissively

indeed.No, said the dwarf, conclusively. No, it wouldnt. And with

that, the dwarf pulled his cap hard over his brows, and took twoturns, of three feet long, up and down the room, lifting his legs upvery high, and setting them down very hard. Tis pause gave timefor Gluck to collect his thoughts a little, and, seeing no great reasonto view his diminutive visitor with dread, and feeling his curiosityovercome his amazement, he ventured on a question of peculiar

delicacy.Pray, sir, said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, were you my mug?On which the little man turned sharp round, walked straight

up to Gluck, and drew himself up to his full height. I, said thelittle man, am the King of the Golden River. Whereupon heturned about again, and took two more turns, some six feet long, inorder to allow time for the consternation which this announcement

produced in his auditor to evaporate. After which, he again walkedup to Gluck and stood still, as if expecting some comment on hiscommunication.

Gluck determined to say something at all events. I hope yourMajesty is very well, said Gluck.

Listen! said the little man, deigning no reply to this polite

inquiry. I am the King of what you mortals call the Golden River.Te shape you saw me in was owing to the malice of a strongerking, from whose enchantments you have this instant freed me.

What I have seen of you, and your conduct to your wicked brothers,renders me willing to serve you; therefore, attend to what I tell you.

Whoever shall climb to the top of that mountain from which yousee the Golden River issue, and shall cast into the stream at itssource three drops of holy water, for him, and for him only, theriver shall turn to gold. But no one failing in his first, can succeedin a second attempt; and if anyone shall cast unholy water into theriver, it will overwhelm him, and he will become a black stone. Sosaying, the King of the Golden River turned away and deliberately


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walked into the centre of the hottest flame of the furnace. His figurebecame red, white, transparent, dazzling - a blaze of intense light -rose, trembled, and disappeared. Te King of the Golden River hadevaporated.

Oh! cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chimney afterhim; oh dear, dear, dear me! My mug! My mug! My mug!


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III

Te King of the Golden River had hardly made the extraordinary

exit related in the last chapter, before Hans and Schwartz cameroaring into the house, very savagely drunk. Te discovery of thetotal loss of their last piece of plate had the effect of sobering them

just enough to enable them to stand over Gluck, beating him verysteadily for a quarter of an hour; at the expiration of which periodthey dropped into a couple of chairs, and requested to know whathe had to say for himself. Gluck told them his story, of which, ofcourse, they did not believe a word. Tey beat him again, till theirarms were tired, and staggered to bed. In the morning, however,the steadiness with which he adhered to his story obtained himsome degree of credence; the immediate consequence of which

was, that the two brothers, after wrangling a long time on theknotty question, which of them should try his fortune first, drew

their swords and began fighting. Te noise of the fray alarmed theneighbours who, finding they could not pacify the combatants, sentfor the constable.

Hans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid himself; butSchwartz was taken before the magistrate, fined for breaking thepeace, and, having drunk out his last penny the evening before, was

thrown into prison till he should pay.When Hans heard this, he was much delighted, and determinedto set out immediately for the Golden River. How to get the holy

water was the question. He went to the priest, but the priest couldnot give any holy water to so abandoned a character. So Hans wentto vespers in the evening for the first time in his life, and, underpretence of crossing himself, stole a cupful and returned home in

triumph.Next morning he got up before the sun rose, put the holy water

into a strong flask, and two bottles of wine and some meat in abasket, slung them over his back, took his alpine staff in his hand,and set off for the mountains.


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On his way out of the town he had to pass the prison, and ashe looked in at the windows, whom should he see but Schwartzhimself peeping out of the bars, and looking very disconsolate.

Good morning, brother, said Hans; have you any message for

the King of the Golden River?Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the bars with

all his strength; but Hans only laughed at him, and advising himto make himself comfortable till he came back again, shoulderedhis basket, shook the bottle of holy water in Schwartzs face till itfrothed again, and marched off in the highest spirits in the world.

It was, indeed, a morning that might have made anyone happy,even with no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist laystretched along the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains- their lower cliffs in pale grey shadow, hardly distinguishablefrom the floating vapour, but gradually ascending till they caughtthe sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy colour alongthe angular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through their

fringes of spear-like pine. Far above, shot up red splintered massesof castellated rock, jagged and shivered into myriads of fantasticforms, with here and there a streak of sunlit snow, traced downtheir chasms like a line of forked lightning; and, far beyond, andfar above all these, fainter than the morning cloud, but purer andchangeless, slept, in the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the eternal

snow.Te Golden River, which sprang from one of the lower

and snowless elevations, was now nearly in shadow; all but theuppermost jets of spray, which rose like slow smoke above theundulating line of the cataract, and floated away in feeble wreathsupon the morning wind.

On this object, and on this alone, Hanss eyes and thoughtswere fixed; forgetting the distance he had to traverse, he set off atan imprudent rate of walking, which greatly exhausted him beforehe had scaled the first range of the green and low hills. He was,moreover, surprised, on surmounting them, to find that a largeglacier, of whose existence, notwithstanding his previous knowledge


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of the mountains, he had been absolutely ignorant, lay betweenhim and the source of the Golden River. He entered on it withthe boldness of a practised mountaineer; yet he thought he hadnever traversed so strange or so dangerous a glacier in his life. Te

ice was excessively slippery, and out of all its chasms came wildsounds of gushing water; not monotonous or low; but changefuland loud, rising occasionally into drifting passages of wild melody,then breaking off into short melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks,resembling those of human voices in distress or pain. Te ice wasbroken into thousands of confused shapes, but none, Hans thought

like the ordinary forms of splintered ice. Tere seemed a curiousexpressionabout all their outlines - a perpetual resemblance to livingfeatures, distorted and scornful. Myriads of deceitful shadows, andlurid lights, played and floated about and through the pale-bluepinnacles, dazzling and confusing the sight of the traveller; while hisears grew dull and his head giddy with the constant gush and roar ofthe concealed waters. Tese painful circumstances increased upon

him as he advanced; the ice crashed and yawned into fresh chasmsat his feet, tottering spires nodded around him, and fell thunderingacross his path; and, though he had repeatedly faced these dangerson the most terrific glaciers, and in the wildest weather, it was witha new and oppressive feeling of panic terror that he leaped the lastchasm, and flung himself, exhausted and shuddering, on the firm

turf of the mountain.He had been compelled to abandon his basket of food, which

became a perilous encumbrance on the glacier, and had now nomeans of refreshing himself but by breaking off and eating someof the pieces of ice. Tis, however, relieved his thirst; an hoursrepose recruited his hardy frame, and, with the indomitable spirit ofavarice, he resumed his laborious journey.

His way now lay straight up a ridge of bare red rocks, withouta blade of grass to ease the foot, or a projecting angle to afford aninch of shade from the south sun. It was past noon, and the raysbeat intensely upon the steep path, while the whole atmosphere wasmotionless, and penetrated with heat. Intense thirst was soon added


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to the bodily fatigue with which Hans was now afflicted; glanceafter glance he cast on the flask of water which hung at his belt.Tree drops are enough, at last thought he; I may, at least, coolmy lips with it.

He opened the flask, and was raising it to his lips, when his eyefell on an object lying on the rock beside him; he thought it moved.It was a small dog, apparently in the last agony of death from thirst.Its tongue was out, its jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, anda swarm of black ants were crawling about its lips and throat. Itseye moved to the bottle which Hans held in his hand. He raised

it, drank, spurned the animal with his foot, and passed on. And hedid not know how it was, but he thought that a strange shadow hadsuddenly come across the blue sky.

Te path became steeper and more rugged every moment;and the high hill air, instead of refreshing him, seemed to throwhis blood into a fever. Te noise of the hill cataracts sounded likemockery in his ears; they were all distant, and his thirst increased

every moment. Another hour passed, and he again looked downto the flask at his side; it was half empty; but there was much morethan three drops in it. He stopped to open it, and again, as he didso, something moved in the path above him. It was a fair child,stretched nearly lifeless on the rock, its breast heaving with thirst,its eyes closed, and its lips parched and burning. Hans eyed it

deliberately, drank, and passed on. And a dark-grey cloud came overthe sun, and long, snake-like shadows crept up along the mountainsides. Hans struggled on. Te sun was sinking, but its descentseemed to bring no coolness; the leaden weight of the dead airpressed upon his brow and heart, but the goal was near. He saw thecataract of the Golden River springing from the hillside, scarcelyfive hundred feet above him. He paused for a moment to breathe,and sprang on to complete his task.

At this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He turned, and saw agrey-haired old man extended on the rocks. His eyes were sunk,his features deadly pale, and gathered into an expression of despair.Water! he stretched his arms to Hans, and cried feebly, Water! I


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am dying.I have none, replied Hans; thou hast had thy share of life. He

strode over the prostrate body, and darted on. And a flash of bluelightning rose out of the east, shaped like a sword; it shook thrice

over the whole heaven, and left it dark with one heavy, impenetrableshade. Te sun was setting; it plunged toward the horizon like ared-hot ball.

Te roar of the Golden River rose on Hanss ear. He stood atthe brink of the chasm through which it ran. Its waves were filled

with the red glory of the sunset: they shook their crests like tongues

of fire, and flashes of bloody light gleamed along their foam. Teirsound came mightier and mightier on his senses; his brain grewgiddy with the prolonged thunder. Shuddering he drew the flaskfrom his girdle, and hurled it into the centre of the torrent. As hedid so, an icy chill shot through his limbs: he staggered, shrieked,and fell. Te waters closed over his cry. And the moaning of theriver rose wildly into the night, as it gushed over Te Black Stone.


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IV

Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in the house for Hanss

return. Finding he did not come back, he was terribly frightened,and went and told Schwartz in the prison all that had happened.Ten Schwartz was very much pleased, and said that Hans mustcertainly have been turned into a black stone, and he should haveall the gold to himself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried allnight. When he got up in the morning there was no bread in thehouse, nor any money; so Gluck went and hired himself to anothergoldsmith, and he worked so hard, and so neatly, and so long everyday, that he soon got money enough together to pay his brothersfine, and he went and gave it all to Schwartz, and Schwartz got outof prison. Ten Schwartz was quite pleased, and said he should havesome of the gold of the river. But Gluck only begged he would goand see what had become of Hans.

Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans had stolen the holywater, he thought to himself that such a proceeding might not beconsidered altogether correct by the King of the Golden River, anddetermined to manage matters better. So he took some more ofGlucks money, and went to a bad priest who gave him some holy

water very readily for it. Ten Schwartz was sure it was all quite

right. So Schwartz got up early in the morning before the sun rose,and took some bread and wine in a basket, and put his holy waterin a flask, and set off for the mountains. Like his brother, he wasmuch surprised at the sight of the glacier, and had great difficultyin crossing it, even after leaving his basket behind him. Te day wascloudless, but not bright: there was a heavy purple haze hangingover the sky, and the hills looked lowering and gloomy. And as

Schwartz climbed the steep rock path, the thirst came upon him, asit had upon his brother, until he lifted his flask to his lips to drink.Ten he saw the fair child lying near him on the rocks, and it criedto him, and moaned for water.


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Water, indeed, said Schwartz; I havent half enough formyself, and passed on. And as he went he thought the sunbeamsgrew more dim, and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising outof the west; and, when he had climbed for another hour, the thirst

overcame him again, and he would have drunk. Ten he saw theold man lying before him on the path, and heard him cry out for

water. Water, indeed, said Schwartz; I havent half enough formyself, and on he went.

Ten again the light seemed to fade from before his eyes, and helooked up, and, behold, a mist, of the colour of blood, had come

over the sun; and the bank of black cloud had risen very high, andits edges were tossing and tumbling like the waves of an angry sea.And they cast long shadows, which flickered over Schwartzs path.

Ten Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again his thirstreturned; and as he lifted his flask to his lips, he thought he sawhis brother Hans lying exhausted on the path before him; and, ashe gazed, the figure stretched its arms to him, and cried for water.

Ha, ha, laughed Schwartz, are you there? Remember the prisonbars, my boy. Water indeed! Do you suppose I carried it all the wayup here for you? And he strode over the figure; yet, as he passed,he thought he saw a strange expression of mockery about its lips.

And, when he had gone a few yards farther, he looked back; but thefigure was not there.

And a sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew not why;but the thirst for gold prevailed over his fear, and he rushed on.

And the bank of black cloud rose to the zenith, and out of it camebursts of spiry lightning, and waves of darkness seemed to heaveand float between their flashes over the whole heavens. And the sky

where the sun was setting was all level, and like a lake of blood; anda strong wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds intofragments, and scattering them far into the darkness. And whenSchwartz stood by the brink of the Golden River, its waves wereblack, like thunder clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roarof the waters below, and the thunder above, met, as he cast the flaskinto the stream. And, as he did so, the lightning glared into his eyes,


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and the earth gave way beneath him, and the waters closed over hiscry. And the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night, as itgushed over the wo Black Stones.


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V

When Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back he was very

sorry, and did not know what to do. He had no money, and wasobliged to go and hire himself again to the goldsmith, who workedhim very hard, and gave him very little money. So, after a monthor two, Gluck grew tired, and made up his mind to go and try hisfortune with the Golden River. Te little king looked very kind,thought he. I dont think he will turn me into a black stone. So he

went to the priest, and the priest gave him some holy water as soonas he asked for it. Ten Gluck took some bread in his basket, andthe bottle of water, and set off very early for the mountains.

If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to hisbrothers, it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither sostrong nor so practised on the mountains. He had several very badfalls, lost his basket and bread, and was very much frightened at

the strange noises under the ice. He lay a long time to rest on thegrass, after he had got over, and began to climb the hill in just thehottest part of the day. When he had climbed for an hour, he gotdreadfully thirsty, and was going to drink like his brothers, whenhe saw an old man coming down the path above him, looking veryfeeble, and leaning on a staff. My son, said the old man, I am

faint with thirst, give me some of that water. Ten Gluck looked athim, and, when he saw that he was pale and weary, he gave him thewater. Only pray dont drink it all, said Gluck. But the old mandrank a great deal, and gave him back the bottle two-thirds empty.Ten he bade him good speed, and Gluck went on again merrily.

And the path became easier to his feet, and two or three blades ofgrass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers began singing on the

bank beside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard such merrysinging.

Ten he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased onhim so that he thought he should be forced to drink. But, as heraised the flask, he saw a little child lying panting by the roadside,


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and it cried out piteously for water. Ten Gluck struggled withhimself, and determined to bear the thirst a little longer; and heput the bottle to the childs lips, and it drank it all but a few drops.Ten it smiled on him, and got up, and ran down the hill; and

Gluck looked after it till it became as small as a little star, and thenturned and began climbing again. And then there were all kinds ofsweet flowers growing on the rocks, bright green moss, with palepink starry flowers, and soft belled gentians, more blue than the skyat its deepest, and pure white transparent lilies. And crimson andpurple butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down

such pure light, that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst becameintolerable again; and, when he looked at his bottle, he saw thatthere were only five or six drops left in it, and he could not ventureto drink. And, as he was hanging the flask to his belt again, he sawa little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath - just as Hans hadseen it on the day of his ascent. And Gluck stopped and looked at

it and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above him;and he thought of the dwarfs words, that no one could succeed,except in his first attempt; and he tried to pass the dog, but it

whined piteously, and Gluck stopped again. Poor beastie! saidGluck: itll be dead when I come down again, if I dont help it.Ten he looked closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so

mournfully that he could not stand it. Confound the King and hisgold too, said Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured all the

water into the dogs mouth.Te dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its tail disappeared,

its ears became long, longer, silky, golden; its nose became veryred, its eyes became very twinkling; in three seconds the dog wasgone, and before Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the King of theGolden River.

Tank you, said the monarch; but dont be frightened, itsall right; for Gluck showed manifest symptoms of consternationat this unlooked-for reply to his last observation. Why didnt youcome before, continued the dwarf, instead of sending me those


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rascally brothers of yours, for me to have the trouble of turning intostones? Very hard stones they make too.

Oh dear me! said Gluck; have you really been so cruel?Cruel! said the dwarf, they poured unholy water into my

stream; do you suppose Im going to allow that?Why, said Gluck, I am sure, sir - your Majesty, I mean - they

got the water out of the church font.Very probably, replied the dwarf; but, and his countenance

grew stern as he spoke, the water which has been refused to thecry of the weary and dying is unholy, though it had been blessed by

every saint in heaven; and the water which is found in the vessel ofmercy is holy, though it had been defiled with corpses.So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew at his

feet. On its white leaves there hung three drops of clear dew. Andthe dwarf shook them into the flask which Gluck held in his hand.Cast these into the river, he said, and descend on the other sideof the mountains into the reasure Valley. And so good speed.

As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. Teplaying colours of his robe formed themselves into a prismatic mistof dewy light; he stood for an instant veiled with them as with thebelt of a broad rainbow. Te colours grew faint, the mist rose intothe air; the monarch had evaporated.

And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, and its

waves were as clear as crystal, and as brilliant as the sun. And, whenhe cast the three drops of dew into the stream, there opened wherethey fell a small circular whirlpool, into which the waters descended

with a musical noise.Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much disappointed,

because not only the river was not turned into gold, but its watersseemed much diminished in quantity. Yet he obeyed his friend thedwarf, and descended the other side of the mountains toward thereasure Valley; and, as he went, he thought he heard the noise of

water working its way under the ground. And, when he came insight of the reasure Valley, behold, a river, like the Golden River

was springing from a new cleft of the rocks above it, and was flowing


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in innumerable streams among the dry heaps of red sand.And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new streams,

and creeping plants grew, and climbed among this moistening soil.Young flowers opened suddenly along the river sides, as stars leap

out when twilight is deepening, and thickets of myrtle, and tendrilsof vine, cast lengthening shadows over the valley as they grew. Andthus the reasure Valley became a garden again, and the inheritance

which had been lost by cruelty was regained by love.And Gluck went, and dwelt in the valley, and the poor were

never driven from his door: so that his barns became full of corn,

and his house of treasure. And, for him, the river had, according tothe dwarfs promise, become a River of Gold.And, to this day, the inhabitants of the valley point out the place

where the three drops of holy dew were cast into the stream, andtrace the course of the Golden River under the ground, until itemerges in the reasure Valley. And at the top of the cataract ofthe Golden River are still to be seen two BLACK SONES, round

which the waters howl mournfully every day at sunset, and thesestones are still called by the people of the valley Te Black Brothers.


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Te Snow-Image

One afternoon of a cold winters day, when the sun shone forth with

chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave oftheir mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow. Te elderchild was a girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modestdisposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents, andother people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. Buther brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on accountof the ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which madeeverybody think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers. Te fatherof these two children, a certain Mr Lindsey, it is important tosay, was an excellent but exceedingly matter-of-fact sort of man,a dealer in hardware, and was sturdily accustomed to take what iscalled the common-sense view of all matters that came under hisconsideration. With a heart about as tender as other peoples, he had

a head as hard and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps, as empty,as one of the iron pots which it was a part of his business to sell. Temothers character, on the other hand, had a strain of poetry in it,a trait of unworldly beauty - a delicate and dewy flower, as it were,that had survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itselfalive amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood.

So, Violet and Peony, as I began with saying, besought theirmother to let them run out and play in the new snow; for, thoughit had looked so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of thegrey sky, it had a very cheerful aspect, now that the sun was shiningon it. Te children dwelt in a city, and had no wider play-placethan a little garden before the house, divided by a white fencefrom the street, and with a pear-tree and two or three plum-trees

overshadowing it, and some rose-bushes just in front of the parlour-windows. Te trees and shrubs, however, were now leafless, andtheir twigs were enveloped in the light snow, which thus made akind of wintry foliage, with here and there a pendent icicle for thefruit.


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Yes, Violet - yes, my little Peony, said their kind mother; youmay go out and play in the new snow.

Accordingly, the good lady bundled up her darlings in woollenjackets and wadded sacks, and put comforters round their necks,

and a pair of striped gaiters on each little pair of legs, and worstedmittens on their hands, and gave them a kiss apiece, by way of aspell to keep away Jack Frost. Forth sallied the two children, witha hop-skip-and-jump, that carried them at once into the very heartof a huge snow-drift, whence Violet emerged like a snow-bunting,

while little Peony floundered out with his round face in full bloom.

Ten what a merry time had they! o look at them, frolicking in thewintry garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitilessstorm had been sent for no other purpose but to provide a newplaything for Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had beencreated, as the snow-birds were, to take delight only in the tempest,and in the white mantle which it spread over the earth.

At last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls

of snow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peonys figure, wasstruck with a new idea.

You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony, said she, if yourcheeks were not so red. And that puts me in mind! Let us makean image out of snow - an image of a little girl - and it shall be oursister, and shall run about and play with us all winter long. Wont it

be nice?O, yes! cried Peony, as plainly as he could speak, for he was but

a little boy. Tat will be nice! And mamma shall see it!Yes, answered Violet; mamma shall see the new little girl. But

she must not make her come into the warm parlour; for, you know,our little snow-sister will not love the warmth.

And forthwith the children began this great business of makinga snow-image that should run about; while their mother, who wassitting at the window and overheard some of their talk, could nothelp smiling at the gravity with which they set about it. Tey reallyseemed to imagine that there would be no difficulty whatever increating a live little girl out of the snow. And, to say the truth, if


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miracles are ever to be wrought, it will be by putting our handsto the work in precisely such a simple and undoubting frame ofmind as that in which Violet and Peony now undertook to performone, without so much as knowing that it was a miracle. So thought

the mother; and thought, likewise, that the new snow, just fallenfrom heaven, would be excellent material to make new beings of,if it were not so very cold. She gazed at the children a momentlonger, delighting to watch their little figures - the girl, tall for herage, graceful and agile, and so delicately coloured that she lookedlike a cheerful thought, more than a physical reality; while Peony

expanded in breadth rather than height, and rolled along on hisshort and sturdy legs as substantial as an elephant, though not quiteso big. Ten the mother resumed her work. What it was I forget;but she was either trimming a silken bonnet for Violet, or darninga pair of stockings for little Peonys short legs. Again, however, andagain, and yet other agains, she could not help turning her head tothe window to see how the children got on with their snow-image.

Indeed, it was an exceedingly pleasant sight, those bright littlesouls at their task! Moreover, it was really wonderful to observe howknowingly and skilfully they managed the matter. Violet assumedthe chief direction, and told Peony what to do, while, with her owndelicate fingers, she shaped out all the nicer parts of the snow-figure.It seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the children, as to

grow up under their hands, while they were playing and prattlingabout it. Teir mother was quite surprised at this; and the longershe looked, the more and more surprised she grew.

What remarkable children mine are! thought she, smiling witha mothers pride; and, smiling at herself, too, for being so proud ofthem. What other children could have made anything so like alittle girls figure out of snow at the first trial? Well; but now I mustfinish Peonys new frock, for his grandfather is coming to-morrow,and I want the little fellow to look handsome.

So she took up the frock, and was soon as busily at work againwith her needle as the two children with their snow-image. But still,as the needle travelled hither and thither through the seams of the


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dress, the mother made her toil light and happy by listening to theairy voices of Violet and Peony. Tey kept talking to one anotherall the time, their tongues being quite as active as their feet andhands. Except at intervals, she could not distinctly hear what was

said, but had merely a sweet impression that they were in a mostloving mood, and were enjoying themselves highly, and that thebusiness of making the snow-image went prosperously on. Nowand then, however, when Violet and Peony happened to raise theirvoices, the words were as audible as if they had been spoken in thevery parlour, where the mother sat. O how delightfully those words

echoed in her heart, even though they meant nothing so very wiseor wonderful, after all!But you must know a mother listens with her heart, much more

than with her ears; and thus she is often delighted with the trills ofcelestial music, when other people can hear nothing of the kind.

Peony, Peony! cried Violet to her brother, who had gone toanother part of the garden, bring me some of that fresh snow,

Peony, from the very farthest corner, where we have not beentrampling. I want it to shape our little snow-sisters bosom with.

You know that part must be quite pure, just as it came out of thesky!

Here it is, Violet! answered Peony, in his bluff tone - but a verysweet tone, too - as he came floundering through the half-trodden

drifts. Here is the snow for her little bosom. O Violet, how beau-ti-ful she begins to look!

Yes, said Violet, thoughtfully and quietly; our snow-sisterdoes look very lovely. I did not quite know, Peony, that we couldmake such a sweet little girl as this.

Te mother, as she listened, thought how fit and delightful anincident it would be, if fairies, or, still better, if angel-children wereto come from paradise, and play invisibly with her own darlings,and help them to make their snow-image, giving it the features ofcelestial babyhood! Violet and Peony would not be aware of theirimmortal playmates - only they could see that the image grewvery beautiful while they worked at it, and would think that they


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themselves had done it all.My little girl and boy deserve such playmates, if mortal children

ever did! said the mother to herself; and then she smiled again ather own motherly pride.

Nevertheless, the ideas seized upon her imagination; and everand anon, she took a glimpse out of the window, half dreaming thatshe might see the golden-haired children of paradise sporting withher own golden-haired Violet and bright-cheeked Peony.

Now, for a few moments, there was a busy and earnest, butindistinct hum of the two childrens voices, as Violet and Peony

wrought together with one happy consent. Violet still seemed tobe the guiding spirit, while Peony acted rather as a labourer, andbrought her the snow from far and near. And yet the little urchinevidently had a proper understanding of the matter, too!

Peony, Peony! cried Violet; for the brother was again at theother side of the garden. Bring me those light wreaths of snow thathave rested on the lower branches of the pear-tree. You can clamber

on the snow-drift, Peony, and reach them easily. I must have themto make some ringlets for our snow-sisters head!

Here they are, Violet! answered the little boy. ake care youdo not break them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!

Does she not look sweet? said Violet, with a very satisfied tone;and now we must have some little shining bits of ice, to make the

brightness of her eyes. She is not finished yet. Mamma will see howvery beautiful she is; but papa will say, ush! Nonsense! - come inout of the cold!

Let us call mamma to look out, said Peony; and then heshouted lustily, Mamma! Mamma!! Mamma!!! Look out, and see

what a nice ittle girl we are making.Te mother put down her work, for an instant, and looked out

of the window. But it so happened that the sun - for this was oneof the shortest days of the whole year - had sunken so nearly to theedge of the world, that his setting shine came obliquely into theladys eyes. So she was dazzled, you must understand, and couldnot very distinctly observe what was in the garden. Still, however,


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through all that bright, blinding dazzle of the sun and the new snow,she beheld a small white figure in the garden, that seemed to have a

wonderful deal of human likeness about it. And she saw Violet andPeony - indeed, she looked more at them than at the image - she

saw the two children still at work; Peony bringing fresh snow, andViolet applying it to the figure as scientifically as a sculptor addsclay to his model. Indistinctly as she discerned the snow-child, themother thought to herself that never before was there a snow-figureso cunningly made, nor ever such a dear little girl and boy to makeit.

Tey do everything better than other children, said she, verycomplacently. No wonder they make better snow-images!She sat down again to her work, and made as much haste with

it as possible; because twilight would soon come, and Peonys frockwas not yet finished, and grandfather was expected, by railroad,pretty early in the morning. Faster and faster, therefore, went herflying fingers. Te children, likewise, kept busily at work in the

garden, and still the mother listened, whenever she could catch aword. She was amused to observe how their little imaginations hadgot mixed up with what they were doing, and were carried away byit. Tey seemed positively to think that the snow-child would runabout and play with them.

What a nice playmate she will be for us, all winter long! said

Violet. I hope papa will not be afraid of her giving us a cold! Shantyou love her dearly, Peony?

O yes! cried Peony. And I will hug her and she shall sit downclose by me, and drink some of my warm milk!

O no, Peony! answered Violet, with grave wisdom. Tat willnot do at all. Warm milk will not be wholesome for our little snow-sister. Little snow-people, like her, eat nothing but icicles. No, no,Peony; we must not give her anything warm to drink!

Tere was a minute or two of silence; for Peony, whose short legswere never weary, had gone on a pilgrimage again to the other sideof the garden. All of a sudden, Violet cried out, loudly and joyfully -


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Look here, Peony! Come quickly! A light has been shining onher cheek out of that rose-coloured cloud! And the colour does notgo away! Is not that beautiful!

Yes; it is beau-ti-ful, answered Peony, pronouncing the three

syllables with deliberate accuracy. O Violet, only look at her hair!It is all like gold!

O, certainly, said Violet, with tranquillity, as if it were verymuch a matter of course. Tat colour, you know, comes from thegolden clouds, that we see up there in the sky. She is almost finishednow. But her lips must be made very red - redder than her cheeks.

Perhaps, Peony, it will make them red if we both kiss them!Accordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as ifboth her children were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth.But, as this did not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violetnext proposed that the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peonysscarlet cheek.

Come, ittle snow-sister, kiss me! cried Peony.

Tere! She has kissed you, added Violet, and her lips are veryred. And she blushed a little, too!

O, what a cold kiss! cried Peony.Just then, there came a breeze of the pure west-wind, sweeping

through the garden and rattling the parlour-windows. It soundedso wintry cold, that the mother was about to tap on the window-

pane with her thimbled finger, to summon the two children in,when they both cried out to her with one voice. Te tone was not atone of surprise, although they were evidently a good deal excited;it appeared rather as if they were very much rejoiced at some eventthat had now happened, but which they had been looking for, andhad reckoned upon all along.

Mamma! Mamma! We have finished our little snow-sister, andshe is running about the garden with us!

What imaginative little beings my children are! thought themother, putting the last few stitches into Peonys frock. And it isstrange, too, that they make me almost as much a child as theythemselves are! I can hardly help believing, now, that the snow-


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image has really come to life!Dear mamma! cried Violet, pray look out and see what a

sweet playmate we have!Te mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to

look forth from the window. Te sun was now gone out of thesky, leaving, however, a rich inheritance of his brightness amongthose purple and golden clouds which make the sunsets of winter somagnificent. But there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, eitheron the window or on the snow; so that the good lady could look allover the garden, and see everything and everybody in it. And what

do you think she saw there? Violet and Peony, of course, her owntwo darling children. Ah, but whom or what did she see besides?Why, if you will believe me, there was a small figure of a girl, dressedall in white, with rose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue,playing about the garden with the two children! A stranger thoughshe was, the child seemed to be on as familiar terms with Violetand Peony, and they with her, as if all the three had been playmates

during the whole of their little lives. Te mother thought to herselfthat it must certainly be the daughter of one of the neighbours,and that, seeing Violet, and Peony in the garden, the child had runacross the street to play with them. So this kind lady went to thedoor, intending to invite the little runaway into her comfortableparlour; for, now that the sunshine was withdrawn, the atmosphere,

out of doors, was already growing very cold.But, after opening the house-door, she stood an instant on the

threshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to comein, or whether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almostdoubted whether it were a real child, after all, or only a light wreathof the new-fallen snow, blown hither and thither about the gardenby the intensely cold west-wind. Tere was certainly something verysingular in the aspect of the little stranger. Among all the childrenof the neighbourhood, the lady could remember no such face, withits pure white, and delicate rose-colour, and the golden ringletstossing about the forehead and cheeks. And as for her dress, which

was entirely of white, and fluttering in the breeze, it was such as


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no reasonable woman would put upon a little girl, when sendingher out to play, in the depth of winter. It made this kind andcareful mother shiver only to look at those small feet, with nothingin the world on them, except a very thin pair of white slippers.

Nevertheless, airily as she was clad, the child seemed to feel not theslightest inconvenience from the cold, but danced so lightly overthe snow that the tips of her toes left hardly a print in its surface;

while Violet could but just keep pace with her, and Peonys shortlegs compelled him to lag behind.

Once, in the course of their play, the strange child placed herself

between Violet and Peony, and taking a hand of each, skippedmerrily forward, and they along with her. Almost immediately,however, Peony pulled away his little fist, and began to rub it as ifthe fingers were tingling with cold; while Violet also released herself,though with less abruptness, gravely remarking that it was betternot to take hold of hands. Te white-robed damsel said not a word,but danced about, just as merrily as before. If Violet and Peony did

not choose to play with her, she could make just as good a playmateof the brisk and cold west-wind, which kept blowing her all aboutthe garden, and took such liberties with her, that they seemed tohave been friends for a long time. All this while, the mother stoodon the threshold, wondering how a little girl could look so muchlike a flying snow-drift, or how a snow-drift could look so very like

a little girl.She called Violet, and whispered to her.Violet, my darling, what is this childs name? asked she. Does

she live near us?Why, dearest mamma, answered Violet, laughing to think that

her mother did not comprehend so very plain an affair, this is ourlittle snow-sister, whom we have just been making!

Yes, dear mamma, cried Peony, running to his mother andlooking up simply into her face, Tis is our snow-image! Is it not anice ittle child?

At this instant a flock of snow-birds came flitting through theair. As was very natural, they avoided Violet and Peony. But - and


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this looked strange - they flew at once to the white-robed child,fluttered eagerly about her head, alighted on her shoulders, andseemed to claim her as an old acquaintance. She, on her part, wasevidently as glad to see these little birds, old Winters grandchildren,

as they were to see her, and welcomed them by holding out bothher hands. Hereupon, they each and all tried to alight on her twopalms and ten small fingers and thumbs, crowding one another off,

with an immense fluttering of their tiny wings. One dear little birdnestled tenderly in her bosom; another put its bill to her lips. Tey

were as joyous, all the while, and seemed as much in their element,

as you may have seen them when sporting with a snow-storm.Violet and Peony stood laughing at this pretty sight: for theyenjoyed the merry time which their new playmate was having withtheir small-winged visitants, almost as much as if they themselvestook part in it.

Violet, said her mother, greatly perplexed, tell me the truth,without any jest. Who is this little girl?

My darling mamma, answered Violet, looking seriously intoher mothers face, and apparently surprised that she should needany further explanation, I have told you truly who she is. It is ourlittle snow-image, which Peony and I have been making. Peony willtell you so, as well as I.

Yes, mamma, asseverated Peony, with much gravity in his

crimson little phiz, this is ittle snow-child. Is not she a nice one?But, mamma, her hand, is oh, so very cold!

While mamma still hesitated what to think and what to do, thestreet-gate was thrown open, and the father of Violet and Peonyappeared, wrapped in a pilot-cloth sack, with a fur cap drawn downover his ears, and the thickest of gloves upon his hands. Mr Lindsey

was a middle-aged man, with a weary and yet a happy look in hiswind-flushed and frost-pinched face, as if he had been busy allthe day long, and was glad to get back to his quiet home. His eyesbrightened at the sight of his wife and children, although he couldnot help uttering a word or two of surprise, at finding the wholefamily in the open air, on so bleak a day, and after sunset too. He


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soon perceived the little white stranger, sporting to and fro in thegarden, like a dancing snow-wreath, and the flock of snow-birdsfluttering about her head.

Pray, what little girl may that be? inquired this very sensible

man. Surely her mother must be crazy, to let her go out in suchbitter weather as it has been to-day, with only that flimsy whitegown and those thin slippers!

My dear husband, said his wife, I know no more about thelittle thing than you do. Some neighbours child, I suppose. OurViolet and Peony, she added, laughing at herself for repeating so

absurd a story, Insist that she is nothing but a snow-image, whichthey have been busy about in the garden, almost all the afternoon.As she said this, the mother glanced her eyes toward the spot

where the childrens snow-image had been made. What was hersurprise, on perceiving that there was not the slightest trace of somuch labour! - No image at all - no piled up heap of snow - nothing

whatever, save the prints of little footsteps around a vacant space!

Tis is very strange! said she.What is strange, dear mother? asked Violet. Dear father, do

not you see how it is? Tis is our snow-image, which Peony andI have made, because we wanted another playmate. Did not we,Peony?

Yes, papa, said crimson Peony. Tis be our ittle snow-sister. Is

she not beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!Pooh, nonsense, children! cried their good, honest father, who,

as we have already intimated, had an exceedingly common-sensibleway of looking at matters. Do not tell me of making live figuresout of snow. Come, wife; this little stranger must not stay out inthe bleak air a moment longer. We will bring her into the parlour;and you shall give her a supper of warm bread and milk, and makeher as comfortable as you can. Meanwhile, I will inquire among theneighbours; or, if necessary, send the city-crier about the streets, togive notice of a lost child.

So saying, this honest and very kind-hearted man was goingtoward the little white damsel, with the best intentions in the


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world. But Violet and Peony, each seizing their father by the hand,earnestly besought him not to make her come in.

Dear father, cried Violet, putting herself before him, it is truewhat I have been telling you! Tis is our little snow-girl, and she

cannot live any longer than while she breathes the cold west-wind.Do not make her come into the hot room!

Yes, father, shouted Peony, stamping his little foot, so mightilywas he in earnest, this be nothing but our ittle snow-child! Shewill not love the hot fire!

Nonsense, children, nonsense, nonsense! cried the father, half

vexed, half laughing at what he considered their foolish obstinacy.Run into the house, this moment! It is too late to play any longer,now. I must take care of this little girl immediately, or she will catchher death a-cold!

Husband! Dear husband! said his wife, in a low voice - forshe had been looking narrowly at the snow-child, and was moreperplexed than ever - there is something very singular in all this.

You will think me foolish - but - but - May it not be that someinvisible angel has been attracted by the simplicity and good faith

with which our children set about their undertaking? May he nothave spent an hour of his immortality in playing with those dearlittle souls? And so the result is what we call a miracle. No, no! Donot laugh at me; I see what a foolish thought it is!

My dear wife, replied the husband, laughing heartily, You areas much a child as Violet and Peony.

And in one sense so she was, for all through life she had kept herheart full of childlike simplicity and faith, which was as pure andclear as crystal; and, looking at all matters through this transparentmedium, she sometimes saw truths so profound, that other peoplelaughed at them as nonsense and absurdity.

But now kind Mr Lindsey had entered the garden, breakingaway from his two children, who still sent their shrill voices afterhim, beseeching him to let the snow-child stay and enjoy herselfin the cold west-wind. As he approached, the snow-birds took toflight. Te little white damsel, also, fled backward, shaking her


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head, as if to say, Pray, do not touch me! and roguishly, as itappeared, leading him through the deepest of the snow. Once, thegood man stumbled, and floundered down upon his face, so that,gathering himself up again, with the snow sticking to his rough

pilot-cloth sack, he looked as white and wintry as a snow-imageof the largest size. Some of the neighbours, meanwhile, seeing himfrom their windows, wondered what could possess poor Mr Lindseyto be running about his garden in pursuit of a snow-drift, whichthe west-wind was driving hither and thither! At length, after a vastdeal of trouble, he chased the little stranger into a corner, where

she could not possibly escape him. His wife had been looking on,and, it being nearly twilight, was wonderstruck to observe how thesnow-child gleamed and sparkled, and how she seemed to shed aglow all-round about her; and when driven into the corner, shepositively glistened like a star! It was a frosty kind of brightness, toolike that of an icicle in the moonlight. Te wife thought it strangethat good Mr Lindsey should see nothing remarkable in the snow-

childs appearance.Come, you odd little thing! cried the honest man, seizing

her by the hand, I have caught you at last, and will make youcomfortable in spite of yourself. We will put a nice warm pair of

worsted stockings on your frozen little feet, and you shall h

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