In the winter time there was an end of this amusement. The windows were sometimes quite frozen over. But then they warmed copper shillings on the stove, and held the warm coins against the frozen pane; and this made a capital peep-hole, so round! so round! and behind it gleamed a pretty mild eye at each window; and these eyes belonged to the little boy and the little girl. His name was Kay and the little girl's was Gerda.
In the summer they could get to one another at one bound; but in the winter they had to go down and up the long staircase, while the snow was pelting without.
"Those are the white bees swarming," said the old grandmother.
"Have they a queen bee?" asked the little boy. For he knew that there is one among the real bees.
"Yes, they have one," replied grandmamma. "She always flies where they swarm thickest. She is the largest of them all, and never remains quiet upon the earth; she flies up again into the black cloud. Many a midnight she is flying through the streets of the town, and looks in at the windows, and then they freeze in such a strange way, and look like flowers."
"Yes, I've seen that!" cried both the children; and now they knew that it was true.
[Illustration: THE SNOWFLAKE AT LAST BECAME A MAIDEN]
"Can the Snow Queen come in here?" asked the little girl.
"Only let her come," cried the boy; "I'll set her upon the warm stove, and then she'll melt."
But grandmother smoothed his hair, and told some other tales. In the evening, when little Kay was at home and half undressed, he clambered upon the chair by the window, and looked through the little hole. A few flakes of snow were falling outside, and one of them, the largest of them all, remained lying on the edge of one of the flower boxes.