a
by the hand, and led her into the little house, and closed the door. The
windows were very high, and as the panes were red, blue, and yellow, the
daylight shone through them in all sorts of singular colors. On the
table stood some beautiful cherries, and Gerda had permission to eat as
many as she would. While she was eating them the old woman combed out
her long flaxen ringlets with a golden comb, and the glossy curls hung
down on each side of the little round, pleasant face, which looked fresh
and blooming as a rose.

"I have long been wishing for a dear little maiden like you," said the
old woman, "and now you must stay with me and see how happily we shall
live together." And while she went on combing little Gerda's hair the
child thought less and less about her adopted brother Kay, for the old
woman was an enchantress, although she was not a wicked witch; she
conjured only a little for her own amusement, and, now, because she
wanted to keep Gerda. Therefore she went into the garden and stretched
out her crutch toward all the rose trees, beautiful though they were,
and they immediately sank into the dark earth, so that no one could tell
where they had once stood. The old woman was afraid that if little Gerda
saw roses, she would think of those at home and then remember little Kay
and run away.

Then she took Gerda into the flower garden. How fragrant and beautiful
it was! Every flower that could be thought of, for every season of the
year, was here in full bloom; no picture book could have more beautiful
colors. Gerda jumped for joy, and played till the sun went down behind
the tall cherry trees; then she slept in an elegant bed, with red silk
pillows embroidered with colored violets, and she dreamed as pleasantly
as a queen on her wedding day.

The next day, and for many days after, Gerda played with the flowers in
the warm sunshine. She knew every flower, and yet, although there were
so many of them, it seemed as if one were missing, but what it was she
could not tell. One day, however, as she sat looking at the old woman's
hat with the painted flowers on it, she saw that the prettiest of them
all was a rose. The old woman had forgotten to take it from her hat when
she made all the roses sink into the earth. But it is difficult to keep
the thoughts together in everything, and one little mistake upsets all
our arrangements.

"What! are there no roses here?" cried Gerda, and she ran out into the
garden and exam