sed them back on to
the dry pebbles at her feet. "We do not want you, we will keep Kay,"
they seemed to say.

"Perhaps I did not throw them far enough," thought Gerda; and, stepping
into a boat that lay among the rushes, she flung the red shoes with all
her might into the middle of the river.

But the boat was not fastened and it glided out from among the rushes.
Soon it was drifting faster and faster down the river. The little shoes
floated behind.

"Perhaps I am going to little Kay," thought Gerda, as she was carried
farther and farther down the river. How pretty it was! Trees waved and
flowers nodded on its banks. Sheep grazed and cattle browsed, but not
one soul, big or little, was to be seen.

After a long time Gerda came to a cherry-garden which stretched down to
the river-bank. At the end of this garden stood a tiny cottage with a
thatched roof, and with red, blue, and yellow glass windows.

On either side of the door stood a wooden soldier. Gerda thought the
soldiers were alive, and shouted to them.

The wooden soldiers, of course, did not hear, but an old, old woman, who
lived in the tiny house, wondered who it could be that called. She
hobbled out, leaning on her hooked stick. On her head she wore a big
sun-hat, and on it were painted beautiful flowers.

"You poor child," said the old, old woman, walking straight into the
river, and catching hold of the boat with her hooked stick; "you poor
dear!" And she pulled the boat ashore and lifted out little Gerda on to
the green grass.

Gerda was delighted to be on dry land again, but she was a little bit
afraid of the old, old woman, who now asked her who she was and where
she came from.

"I am looking for Kay, little Kay. Have you seen him?" began Gerda, and
she went on to tell the old, old woman the whole story of her playmate
and his strange disappearance. When she had finished, she asked again,
"Have you seen him?"

"No," said the old, old woman, "but I expect him. Come in," and she took
little Gerda by the hand. "Come to my house and taste my cherries." And
when they had gone into the cottage, the old, old woman locked the door.
Then she gave Gerda a plate of the most delicious cherries, and while
the little girl ate them, the old, old woman combed her hair with a
golden comb.

Now this old, old woman was a witch, and the comb was a magic comb, for
as soon as it touched her hair, Gerda forgot all about Kay. And this was
just what the witch wished,