“What are you doing?” asked the stranger.
“Look,” said Ivan.
“We are making a snow-girl,” said Mary.
On the ball of snow which stood for a head they made the nose and the chin. Then they put two little holes for the eyes. As Ivan finished the work, oh, wonderful! the figure became alive! He felt a warm breath come from its lips. Ivan drew back, and looked. The child had sparkling eyes, and there was a smile upon its lips.
“Heavens! what is this?” cried Ivan, making the sign of the cross.
The snow figure bent its head as if it was alive, and stirred its little arms and legs in the snow as if it was a real child.
“Ivan! Ivan!” cried Mary, trembling with joy, “Heaven has heard our prayers,” and she threw herself on the child and covered her with kisses. The snow fell away from the little girl like the shell from a chicken.
“Ah, my dear Snyegurka!” cried Mary, embracing the long wished for and unexpected child, and she carried her off into the cottage.
Ivan had much to do to recover himself, he was so surprised, and Mary was foolish with joy.
Snyegurka grew hour by hour, and became more and more beautiful. Ivan and Mary were overjoyed, and their hut was full of life and merriment. The village girls were always there playing with Snyegurka, dressing her, chattering with her, singing songs to her, teaching her all they knew. Snyegurka was very clever; she noticed everything, and learnt things quickly. During that winter she grew as big as a three-year-old child. She understood things, and when she spoke her voice was so sweet that one could have listened to it for ever. She was amiable, obedient, and affectionate. Her skin was white, her hair the colour of flax, and her eyes deep blue; her cheeks, however, had no rosy flush in them, for she had no blood, but she was so good and so amiable that every one loved her.