Over the heart
Of Golden Snow.”
“I can not do it,” said the good-wife, trembling; but the old man walked straight to the door. Though his wife entreated him, saying, “It is the Evil One who calls without, dear husband, do not open it,” he lifted the latch fearlessly. With a great bang in rushed the wind and blew out the candle.
“God save us!” cried the good-wife, crossing herself, almost ready to swoon with fright.
A bright glow from the fire fell upon a willow basket, covered with a fine crimson cloth. As the old man took it up, a little wailing cry rose, which touched the woman’s heart more than all her fears. Taking it from her husband, she exclaimed—
“God pity it! It is a little innocent child!”
The old man pressed hard upon the door, and drove out the ugly wind. Then he came to the fire, and saw his wife folding in her kind arms the most beautiful little child that even a poet could imagine. She was as white as a snow-flake, only the rose tinge upon her cheeks and her lips were like ripe cherries. Her hair was soft as silk, and lay in pretty waves of gold about her head, like the shining crown of a little princess.
The good people were greatly bewildered; but when they looked into the liquid blue eyes of the little one, it seemed like a deep fountain of happiness that was opened to them, and they were delighted beyond measure. As they had no children, this child seemed like a God’s gift, and they adopted her for their own.
Her little robes were of the finest material, daintily embroidered, but among them all there was nothing to tell her name or parentage, only a coral necklace with a golden clasp, engraved with the letters “G. S.”
“Was ever any thing so strange?” said the good-wife. “But she is our child now, and we will call her Golden Snow, for her hair is shining like gold, and her complexion fair as the driven snow.”