“Why should I?” said Reygoch, and laughed again. “The sun will be out presently.”
Reygoch heaved himself up so as to sit. He sat up. He clapped his left shoulder with his right hand, and his right shoulder he clapped with the left hand, so as to beat out the hoar-frost; and the hoar-frost came off each shoulder as if it were snow slipping off a roof!
“Look out! look out, daddy! you’ll smother me!” cried Curlylocks. But Reygoch could scarcely hear her, because it was a long way from Curlylocks to his ear, so big was he when he sat up.
So Reygoch lifted Curlylocks on to his shoulder, told her his name and his business, and she told him how she had come.
“And here comes the sun,” said Reygoch, and pointed for Curlylocks to see.
Curlylocks looked, and there was the sun rising, but so pale and feeble, as if there were no one for him to warm.
“Well, you are a silly, Reygoch!” said Curlylocks—“you are really silly to live here and spend your life counting these tiresome stones of Frosten. Come along, Reygoch, and see how beautiful the world is, and find something more sensible to do.”
Now it had never occurred to Reygoch to want a finer home for himself than Frosten city, nor had he ever thought that there might be better work than his in the world. Reygoch always thought, “I was meant to count the stones of Frosten,” and had never asked for anything better.
Curlylocks, however, gave him no peace, but persuaded him to come out and see the world with her.
“I’ll take you to a lovely country,” said Curlylocks, “where there is an ancient forest, and beside the forest two golden fields.”