he other young men used to go to visit
their sweethearts, but Paertel did not join their company. He stole away,
in deep meditation, to his favourite lime-tree in the pasturage, and
often sat under it for half the night. One Sunday evening he was sitting
on the stone playing the flute, when a milk-white snake crept out from
under the stone. It raised its head as if to listen, and looked at
Paertel with its bright eyes, which shone like fire. This happened
often, and whenever Paertel had any time to spare, he used to hasten to
the stone to see the beautiful white snake, which at last became so
familiar with him that it often coiled round his leg.

Paertel was now growing up to be a young man; his father and mother were
dead, and his brothers and sisters lived widely scattered, and seldom
heard any tidings of each other, and still more rarely met. But the
white snake had grown dearer to him than his brothers and sisters, and
his thoughts were with her by day, and he dreamed of her almost every
night. This made the wintertime seem very long to him, when the earth
was frozen and the snow lay deep on the ground. When the sun-rays melted
the snow in spring and the ground was thawed, Paertel's first walk was to
the stone under the lime-trees, though there was not a leaf to be seen
upon the tree as yet. O what joy! As soon as he breathed forth his
longing in the notes of the flute, the white snake crept out from under
the stone, and played about his feet. But it seemed to Paertel to-day
that the snake shed tears, and this made his heart sad. He now let no
evening pass without visiting the stone, and the snake grew continually
tamer, and she would let him stroke her; but if he tried to hold her
fast, she slipped through his fingers, and crept back under the stone.

On Midsummer Eve all the villagers, old and young, went together to St.
John's fire. Paertel was not allowed to stay behind, though his heart
drew him in another direction. But in the midst of the fun, when all the
others were singing, dancing, and amusing themselves, he slipped away to
the lime-tree, the only place where his heart was at ease. When he drew
near, he saw a clear bright fire shining from the stone, which surprised
him very much, for, as far as he knew, nobody but himself ever visited
the spot. But when he reached the stone, the fire had disappeared,
without leaving either ashes or sparks behind it. He sat down on the
stone, and began to play on his flut