Then Gerda called still louder, and there came a very old woman out of
the house, leaning on a crutch. She wore a large hat to shade her from
the sun, and on it were painted all sorts of pretty flowers. "You poor little child," said the old woman, "how did you manage to come
this long, long distance into the wide world on such a rapid, rolling
stream?" And then the old woman walked into the water, seized the boat
with her crutch, drew it to land, and lifted little Gerda out. And Gerda
was glad to feel herself again on dry ground, although she was rather
afraid of the strange old woman. "Come and tell me who you are," said she, "and how you came here." Then Gerda told her everything, while the old woman shook her head and
said, "Hem-hem"; and when Gerda had finished she asked the old woman if
she had not seen little Kay. She told her he had not passed that way,
but he very likely would come. She told Gerda not to be sorrowful, but
to taste the cherries and look at the flowers; they were better than any
picture book, for each of them could tell a story. Then she took Gerda
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 examined all the beds, and searched and searched. There was
not one to be found. Then she sat down and wept, and her tears fell just
on the place where one of the rose trees had sunk down. The warm tears
moistened the earth, and the rose tree sprouted up at once, as blooming
as when it had sunk; and Gerda embraced it, and kissed the roses, and
thought of the beautiful roses at home, and, with them, of little Kay. "Oh, how I have been detained!" said the little maiden. "I wanted to
seek for little Kay. Do you know where he is?" she asked the roses; "do
you think he is dead?" And the roses answered: "No, he is not dead. We have been in the ground,
where all the dead lie, but Kay is not there." "Thank you," said little Gerda, and then she went to the other flowers
and looked into their little cups and asked, "Do you know where little
Kay is?" But each flower as it stood in the sunshine dreamed only of its
own little fairy tale or history. Not one knew anything of Kay. Gerda
heard many stories from the flowers, as she asked them one after another
about him. And then she ran to the other end of the garden. The door was fastened,
but she pressed against the rusty latch, and it gave way. The door
sprang open, and little Gerda ran out with bare feet into the wide
world. She looked back three times, but no one seemed to be following
her. At last she could run no longer, so she sat down to rest on a great
stone, and when she looked around she saw that the summer was over and
autumn very far advanced. She had known nothing of this in the beautiful
garden where the sun shone and the flowers grew all the year round. "Oh, how I have wasted my time!" said little Gerda. "It is autumn; I
must not rest any longer," and she rose to go on. But her little feet
were wounded and sore, and everything around her looked cold and bleak. The long willow leaves were quite yellow, the dewdrops fell like water,
leaf after leaf dropped from the trees; the sloe thorn alone still bore
fruit, but the sloes were sour and set the teeth on edge. Oh, how dark
and weary the whole world appeared! FOURTH STORY

THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS

Gerda was obliged to rest again, and just opposite the place where she
sat she saw a great crow come hopping toward her across the snow. He
stood looking at her for some time, and then he wagged his head and
said, "Caw, caw, good day, good day." He pronounced the words as plainly
as he could, because he meant to be kind to the little girl, and then he
asked her where she was going all alone in the wide world. The word "alone" Gerda understood very well and felt how much it
expressed. So she told the crow the whole story of her life and
adventures and asked him if he had seen little Kay. The crow nodded his head very gravely and said, "Perhaps I have--it may
be." "No! Do you really think you have?" cried little Gerda, and she kissed
the crow and hugged him almost to death, with joy. "Gently, gently," said the crow. "I believe I know. I think it may be
little Kay; but he has certainly forgotten you by this time, for the
princess." "Does he live with a princess?" asked Gerda. "Yes, listen," replied the crow; "but it is so difficult to speak your
language. If you understand the crows' language, then I can explain it
better. Do you?" "No, I have never learned it," said Gerda, "but my grandmother
understands it, and used to speak it to me. I wish I had learned it." "It does not matter," answered the crow.