Stories and Tales

Hans Christian Andersen

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2003
• ISBN:
  9781134449576
• Edition: 2
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literary Collections
• Index: Literature

A true classic of Western literature, Stories and Tales by Hans Christian Andersen, arguably the most notable children's writer of all, has delighted young and old for generations. This unique collection was first translated for George Routledge over 130 years ago. Completely reset, but preserving the original, beautiful illustrations by A.W. Bayes, engraved by the masters of Victorian book illustration, the Brothers Dalziel, this marvellous book will be treasured by young and old alike.

The Snow Queen

In Seven Stories

First Story

Which Treats of the Mirror and Fragments

Look you, now we’re going to begin. When we are at the end of the story we shall know more than we do now, for he was a bad goblin. He was one of the very worst, for he was a demon. One day he was in very good spirits, for he had made a mirror, which had this peculiarity, that everything good and beautiful that was reflected in it, shrunk together into almost nothing, but that whatever was worthless and looked ugly became prominent and looked worse than ever. The most lovely landscapes seen in this mirror looked like boiled spinach, and the best people became hideous, or stood on their heads and had no bodies; their faces were so distorted as to be unrecognizable, and a single freckle was shown spread out over nose and mouth. That was very amusing, the demon said. When a good pious thought passed through any person’s mind these were again shown in the mirror, so that the demon chuckled at his artistic invention. Those who visited the goblin school,—for he kept a goblin school,—declared everywhere that a wonder had been wrought. For now, they asserted, one could see, for the first time, how the world, and the people in it really looked. Now they wanted to fly up to heaven, to sneer and scoff at the angels themselves. The higher they flew with the mirror, the more it grinned; they could scarcely hold it fast. They flew higher and higher, and then the mirror trembled so terribly amid its grinning that it fell down out of their hands to the earth, where it was shattered into a hundred million million and more fragments. And now this mirror occasioned much more unhappiness than before; for some of the fragments were scarcely so large as a sandcorn, and these flew about in the world, and whenever they flew into anyone’s eye they stuck there, and those people saw everything wrongly, or had only eyes for the bad side of a thing, for every little fragment of the mirror had retained the same power which the whole glass possessed. A few persons even got a fragment of the mirror into their hearts, and that was terrible indeed; for such a heart became a block of ice. A few fragments of the mirror were so large that they were used as window panes; but it was a bad thing to look at one’s friends through these panes; other pieces were made into spectacles, and then it went badly when people put on these spectacles to see rightly and to be just; and then the demon laughed till his paunch shook, for it tickled him so. But without, some little fragments of glass still floated about in the air—and now we shall hear.

The magic mirror

Second Story

A Little Boy, and a Little Girl

In the great town where there are many houses and so many people, that there is not room enough for everyone to have a little garden, and where consequently most persons are compelled to be content with some flowers in flower-pots, were two poor children who possessed a garden somewhat larger than a flower-pot. They were not brother and sister, but they loved each other quite as much as if they had been. Their parents lived just opposite each other in two garrets, there, where the roof of one neighbour’s house joined that of another; and where the water-pipe ran between the two houses was a little window; one had only to step across the pipe to get from one window to the other.

The parents of each child had a great box, in which grew kitchen herbs that they used, and a little rose-bush; there was one in each box and they grew famously. Now it occurred to the parents to place the boxes across the pipe, so that they reached from one window to another, and looked quite like two embankments of flowers. Pea plants hung down over the boxes, and the rose-bushes shot forth long twigs, which clustered round the windows and bent down towards each other, it was almost like a triumphal arch of flowers and leaves. As the boxes were very high and the children knew that they might not creep upon them, they often obtained permission to step out upon the roof behind the boxes, and to sit upon their little stools under the roses, and there they could play capitally.

In the winter there was an end of this amusement. The windows were sometimes quite frozen over. But then they warmed copper shillings on the stove, and held the warm coin against the frozen pane; and this made a capital peep-hole, so round, so round, and behind it gleamed a pretty mild eye one at each window; and these eyes belonged to the little boy and the little girl. His name was Kay and her’s Gerda.

In the summer they could get to one another at one bound; but in the winter they had to go down and up the long staircase, while the snow was pelting without.

“Those are the white bees swarming,” said the old grandmother.

“Have they a Queen-bee?” asked the little boy. For he knew that there is one among the real bees.

“Yes, they have one,” replied grandmamma. “She flies there, where they swarm thickest. She is the largest of them all, and never remains quiet upon the earth; she flies up again into the black cloud. Many a midnight she is flying through the streets of the town, and looks in at the windows, and then they freeze in such a strange way, and look like flowers.”

“Yes, I’ve seen that!” cried both the children; and now they knew that it was true.

“Can the Snow Queen come in here?” asked the little girl. “Only let her come,” cried the boy; “I’ll set her upon the warm stove, and then she’ll melt.”

But grandmother smoothed his hair, and told some other tales.

In the evening, when little Kay was at home and half undressed, he clambered upon the chair by the window, and looked through the little hole; a few flakes of snow were falling outside, and one of them, the largest of them all, remained lying on the edge of one of the flower-boxes. The snow-flake grew larger and larger, and at last became a maiden clothed in the finest white gauze, put together of millions of starry flakes. She was beautiful and delicate, but of ice—of shining, glittering ice. Yet she was alive; her eyes flashed like two clear stars; but there was no peace or rest in them. She nodded towards the window, and beckoned with her hand. The little boy was frightened, and sprang down from the chair; then it seemed as if a great bird flew by outside, in front of the window.

Next day there was a clear frost, and then the spring came; the sun shone, the green sprouted forth, the swallows built nests, the windows were opened, and the little children again sat in their garden high up in the roof, over all the floors.

How splendidly the roses bloomed this summer! The little girl had learned a psalm, in which mention was made of roses; and, in speaking of roses, she thought of her own; and she sang it to the little boy, and he sang, too,—

The Roses Will Fade and Pass Away,

But we the Christ-Child Shall See One Day.

And the little ones held each other by the hand, kissed the roses, looked at God’s bright sunshine, and spoke to it, as if the Christ-child were there. What splendid summer days those were! How beautiful it was without, among the fresh rose-bushes, which seemed as if they would never leave off blooming!

Kay and Gerda sat and looked at the picture-book of beasts and birds. Then it was while the clock was just striking twelve on the church-tower, that Kay said, “Oh! Something struck my heart and pricked me in the eye.”

The little girl fell upon his neck; he blinked his eyes. No, there was nothing at all to be seen.

“I think it is gone,” said he; but it was not gone. It was just one of those glass fragments which sprung from the mirror—the magic mirror that we remember well, the ugly glass that made everything great and good which was mirrored in it to seem small and mean; but in which the mean and the wicked things were brought out in relief, and every fault was noticeable at once. Poor little Kay had also received a splinter just in his heart, and that will now soon become like a lump of ice. It did not hurt him now, but the splinter was still there.

“Why do you cry?” he asked. “You look ugly like that. There’s nothing the matter with me. Oh, fie!” he suddenly exclaimed, “that rose is worm-eaten, and this one is quite crooked. After all, they’re ugly roses. They’re like the box in which they stand;” and then he kicked the box with his foot, and tore both the roses off.

“Kay, what are you about?” cried the little girl; and when he noticed her fright he tore off another rose, and then sprang in at his own window, away from little pretty Gerda.

When she afterwards came with her picture-book, he said it was only fit for babies in arms; and when grandmother told stories he always came in with a but; and when he could manage it, he would get behind her, put on a pair of spectacles, and talk just as she did; he could do that very cleverly, and the people laughed at him. Soon he could mimic the speech and the gait of everybody in the street. Everything that was peculiar or ugly about him Kay could imitate; and people said, “That boy must certainly have a remarkable head.” But it was the glass that stuck deep in his heart; so it happened that he even teased little Gerda, who loved him with all her heart.

Gerda and Kay

His games now became quite different to what they had been before; they became quite sensible. One winter’s day when it snowed he came out with a great burning glass, held up the blue tail of his coat and let the snow-flakes fall upon it:

“Now look at the glass, Gerda,” said he, and every flake of snow was magnified, and looked like a splendid flower, or a star with ten points; it was beautiful to behold. “See how clever that is,” said Kay. “That’s much more interesting than real flowers, and there is not a single fault in it, they’re quite regular, until they begin to melt.”

Soon after Kay came in thick gloves, and with his sledge upon his back, he called up to Gerda, “I’ve got leave to go into the great square, where the other boys play,” and he was gone.

In the great square the boldest among the boys often tied their sledges to the country people’s carts, and thus rode with them a good way. That went capitally. When they were in the midst of their playing there came a great sledge. It was painted quite white, and in it sat somebody wrapped in a rough white fur, and with a white rough cap on his head. The sledge drove twice round the square, and Kay bound his little sledge to it, and so he drove on with it. It went faster and faster straight into the next street. The man who drove turned round and nodded in a friendly way to Kay; it was as if they knew one another; each time when Kay wanted to cast loose his little sledge, the stranger nodded again, and then Kay remained where he was, and thus they drove out of the town-gate. Then the snow began to fall so rapidly that the boy could not see a hand’s breadth before him, but still he drove on. Now he hastily dropped the cord, so as to get loose from the great sledge, but that was no use, his sledge was fast bound to the other, and now they went on like the wind. Then he called out quite loudly, but nobody heard him; and the snow beat down, and the sledge flew onward; every now and then it gave a jump, and they seemed to be flying over hedges and ditches. The boy was quite frightened. He wanted to say his prayer, but could remember nothing but the multiplication table.

The snow-flakes became larger and larger, at last they looked like great white fowls. All at once they sprang aside and the great sledge stopped, and the person who had driven it rose up. The fur and the cap were made altogether of ice, it was a lady, tall and slender, and brilliantly white; it was the Snow Queen.

“We have driven well!” said she. “But why do you tremble with cold, creep into my fur.” And she seated him beside her in her own sledge, and wrapped the fur round him, he felt as if he sank into a snowdrift.

“Are you still cold?” asked she, and then she kissed him on the forehead. Oh, that was colder than ice; it went quite through to his heart, half of which was already a lump of ice; he felt as if he were going to die; but only for a moment; for then he seemed quite well, and he did not notice the cold all about him.

“My sledge! Don’t forget my sledge.” That was the first thing he thought of; and it was bound fast to one of the white chickens, and this chicken flew behind him with the sledge upon its back. The Snow Queen kissed Kay again, and then he had forgotten little Gerda, his grandmother and all at home.

“Now you shall have no more kisses,” said she, “for if you did I should kiss you to death.”

Kay looked at her. She was so beautiful, he could not imagine a more sensible or lovely face; now she did not appear to him to be made of ice as before, when she sat at the window and beckoned to him. In his eyes she was perfect; he did not feel at all afraid. He told her that he could do mental arithmetic, as far as fractions; that he knew the number of square miles and the number of inhabitants in the country. And she always smiled, and then it seemed to him that what he knew was not enough, and he looked up into the wide sky, and she flew with him high up upon the black cloud, and the storm blew and whistled; it seemed as though the wind sang old songs. They flew over woods and lakes, over sea and land; below them roared the cold wind, the wolves howled, the snow crackled; over him flew the black screaming crows; but above all the moon shone bright and clear, and Kay looked at the long, long winter night; by day he slept at the feet of the Queen.

Third Story

The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure

But how did it fare with little Gerda, when Kay did not return? What could have become of him? No one knew, no one could give information. The boys only told that they had seen him bind his sledge to another very large one, which had driven along the street, and out at the town-gate. Nobody knew what had become of him; many tears were shed, and little Gerda especially wept long and bitterly—then she said he was dead; he had been drowned in the river which flowed close by their school; oh, those were very dark long winter days! But now spring came, with warmer sunshine.

“Kay is dead and gone!” said little Gerda.

“I don’t believe it!”—said the sunshine.

“He is dead and gone!” she said to the sparrows.

“We don’t believe it!” they replied; and at last little Gerda did not believe it herself.

“I will put on my new red shoes,”—she said, one morning,—“those that Kay has never seen; and then I will go down to the river, and ask for him!”

It was still very early; she kissed the old grandmother, who was still asleep, put on her red shoes, and went quite alone out of the town-gate towards the river.

“Is it true, that you have taken away my little playmate from me? I will give you my red shoes, if you will give him back to me!”

And it seemed to her as if the waves nodded quite strangely; and then she took her red shoes, that she liked best of anything she possessed, and threw them both into the river; but they fell close to the shore, and the little wavelets carried them back to her, to the land; it seemed as if the river would not take from her the dearest things she possessed because he had not her little Kay; but she thought she had not thrown the shoes far enough out; so she crept into a boat that lay among the reeds; she went to the other end of the boat, and threw the shoes from thence into the wa...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Hans Christian Andersen
• Preface
• The Tinder-Box
• The Daisy
• The Metal Pig
• The Snow Queen