You are our sister,
Golden Snow.”
Then, before the good-wife could stop her, the little maiden would fly out into the storm, full of joy, dancing about as lightly as the snow-flakes themselves.
At first the old fisherman would run after her, and bring her in quickly, for fear that the chill of the storm would kill her; but when he saw that this only saddened her, and how rosy, laughing, and healthful she always was with the snow-flakes, he said to the good-wife—
“They do not harm her—let the child have her way.”
After this they would stand by the window watching her; and very often they heard her saying—
“My pretty sisters, how merry we are—how much I love you! The winter, oh! the winter, is the joy time, and my sisters the fairies of the winter.”
Then the snow-flakes would answer:—
“Golden Snow,
Many maids are fair,