she;
no appleblossom carried away by the wind is more buoyant! How her silken
robe is rustling!

"'Is he not yet come?'"

"Is it Kay that you mean?" asked little Gerda.

"I am speaking about my story--about my dream," answered the
Convolvulus.

What did the Snowdrops say?

"Between the trees a long board is hanging--it is a swing. Two little
girls are sitting in it, and swing themselves backwards and forwards;
their frocks are as white as snow, and long green silk ribands flutter
from their bonnets. Their brother, who is older than they are, stands up
in the swing; he twines his arms round the cords to hold himself fast,
for in one hand he has a little cup, and in the other a clay-pipe. He is
blowing soap-bubbles. The swing moves, and the bubbles float in charming
changing colors: the last is still hanging to the end of the pipe, and
rocks in the breeze. The swing moves. The little black dog, as light as
a soap-bubble, jumps up on his hind legs to try to get into the swing.
It moves, the dog falls down, barks, and is angry. They tease him; the
bubble bursts! A swing, a bursting bubble--such is my song!"

"What you relate may be very pretty, but you tell it in so melancholy a
manner, and do not mention Kay."

What do the Hyacinths say?

"There were once upon a time three sisters, quite transparent, and very
beautiful. The robe of the one was red, that of the second blue, and
that of the third white. They danced hand in hand beside the calm
lake in the clear moonshine. They were not elfin maidens, but mortal
children. A sweet fragrance was smelt, and the maidens vanished in the
wood; the fragrance grew stronger--three coffins, and in them three
lovely maidens, glided out of the forest and across the lake: the
shining glow-worms flew around like little floating lights. Do the
dancing maidens sleep, or are they dead? The odour of the flowers says
they are corpses; the evening bell tolls for the dead!"

"You make me quite sad," said little Gerda. "I cannot help thinking of
the dead maidens. Oh! is little Kay really dead? The Roses have been in
the earth, and they say no."

"Ding, dong!" sounded the Hyacinth bells. "We do not toll for little
Kay; we do not know him. That is our way of singing, the only one we
have."

And Gerda went to the Ranunculuses, that looked forth from among the
shining green leaves.

"You are a little bright sun!" said Gerda. "Tell me if you know where I
can find my playfellow."

And