What,said the little snow-drop?“Between two trees a rope is hanging;there is a piece of board upon it;it is a swing.Two pretty little girls,in dresses white as snow,and with long green ribbons fluttering from their hats,are sitting upon it swinging.Their brother who is taller than they are,stands in the swing;he has one arm round the rope,to steady himself;in one hand he holds a little bowl,and in the other a clay pipe;he is blowing bubbles.As the swing goes on,the bubbles fly upward,reflecting the most beautiful varying colors.The last still hangs from the bowl of the pipe,and sways in the wind.On goes the swing;and then a little black dog comes running up.He is almost as light as the bubble,and he raises himself on his hind legs,and wants to be taken into the swing;but it does not stop,and the dog falls;then he barks and gets angry.The children stoop towards him,and the bubble bursts.A swinging plank,a light sparkling foam picture,—that is my story.”
“It may be all very pretty what you are telling me,”said little Gerda,“but you speak so mournfully,and you do not mention little Kay at all.”
What do the hyacinths say?“There were three beautiful sisters,fair and delicate.The dress of one was red,of the second blue,and of the third pure white.Hand in hand they danced in the bright moonlight,by the calm lake;but they were human beings,not fairy elves.The sweet fragrance attracted them,and they disappeared in the wood;here the fragrance became stronger.Three coffins,in which lay the three beautiful maidens,glided from the thickest part of the forest across the lake.The fire-flies flew lightly over them,like little floating torches.Do the dancing maidens sleep,or are they dead?The scent of the flower says that they are corpses.The evening bell tolls their knell.”
“You make me quite sorrowful,”said little Gerda;“your perfume is so strong,you make me think of the dead maidens.Ah!is little Kay really dead then?The roses have been in the earth,and they say no.”
“Cling,clang,”tolled the hyacinth bells.“We are not tolling for little Kay;we do not know him.We sing our song,the only one we know.”