This delighted the hobgoblin, who ordered his little demons to carry the mirror all over the world and to do as much mischief with it as they could.
But one day, when they had traveled far, the mirror slipped from the hands of the little imps, and fell to earth, shivered into hundreds of thousands of millions of bits. Then it did more harm than ever, for the tiny pieces, some no bigger than a grain of sand, were blown all over the world, and often flew in people’s eyes, and sometimes even found their way into their hearts.
“they flew up and up on a dark cloud”
And when a big person or a child had a little bit of this magic mirror in his eye, he saw only what was mean and ugly; and if the tiniest grain of the glass reached his heart, alas! alas! it froze all the kindness and gentleness and love that was there, and the heart became like a lump of ice.
This is what had happened to poor little Kay. One tiny bit of the magic mirror had flown into his eye; another had entered his heart.
“How horrid you look, Gerda. Why are you crying? And oh, see the worm in that rose. Roses are ugly, and so are window-boxes.” And Kay kicked the window-box, and knocked two roses from the rose-bush.
“Kay dear, what is the matter?” asked Gerda.
The little boy did not answer, but broke off another rose, and then, without saying good-by, stepped in at his own window, leaving Gerda alone.
The next time the little girl brought out the picture-book, Kay tore the leaves, and when the grandmother told them a story, he interrupted her and made ugly faces. And he would tread on Gerda’s toes and pull her hair, and make faces at her, too.