ew more frightened still.
He tried to say his prayers, but could only remember the multiplication
table. Bigger and bigger grew the snowflakes, till they seemed like
large white birds. Then, suddenly, the sledge stopped. The driver stood
up. She was a tall lady, dazzlingly white. Her eyes shone like two
stars. She was the Snow Queen.

"It is cold," said the white lady; "come into my sledge. Now, creep
inside my furs."

Kay did as he was told, but he felt as if he had fallen into a
snowdrift.

"You are still cold," said the Snow Queen, and she kissed his forehead.
Her lips were like ice, and Kay shivered and felt the old pain at his
heart. But only for a minute, for the Snow Queen kissed him again,
and then he forgot the pain, and he forgot Gerda, and he forgot his
grandmother and his old home, and had not a thought for anything or any
one but the Snow Queen.

He had no fear of her now, no, not although they flew up and up on a
dark cloud, away over woods and lakes, over rivers, islands, and seas.
No, he was not afraid, although the cold wind whistled around them, and
beneath the wild wolves howled. Kay did not care.

Above them the moon shone bright and clear. All night long the boy would
gaze at it and the twinkling stars, but by day he slept at the feet of
the Snow Queen.

* * *

But what of little Gerda?

Poor child, she watched and she waited and she wondered, but Kay did not
come, and nobody could tell her where he was. The boys had seen him
drive out of the town gates behind a big sledge painted white. But no
one had heard of him since.

Little Gerda cried bitterly. Perhaps Kay was drowned in the river. Oh,
what a long, cold winter that was! But spring came at last, bright
spring with its golden sunshine and its singing birds.

"Kay is dead," said Gerda.

"Kay dead? It is not true," said the sunshine.

"Kay dead? We do not believe it," twittered the swallows.

And neither did little Gerda believe it.

"I will put on my new red shoes," said the child one morning, "and go to
the river and ask it about Kay." So she put on her little red shoes, and
kissed her old grandmother who was still asleep, and wandered alone, out
beyond the town gates, and down to the river-bank.

"Have you taken my little playfellow?" she asked. "I will give you these
if you will bring him back to me," and she flung her little shoes into
the river.

They fell close to the bank and the little waves tos