CHAPTER III.

UT how did little Gerda get on when Karl did not return? Where could he be? Nobody knew; nothing did they hear. The boys had seen him fasten his sleigh to a large and strange one, but that was all. Many tears were shed for him.

Little Gerda cried bitterly and long. By and by people said he must be dead; he must have got drowned in the river that flowed past the school. Oh, what days those were! Then the spring returned, and brought warm sunshine. "Karl is dead," said little Gerda. "I don't believe it," said the sunshine. "He is dead," she said to the swallows. "We don't believe it," they said; nor did Gerda.

"I will put on my new red shoes," she said one morning, "and I will go to the river and ask after him." It was quite early. She kissed the old grandmother, who was still asleep, put on the red shoes, and went out all alone through the town gate to the river. "Is it true that you have taken away my playfellow?" she said. "I will give you my red shoes if you will give him back to me." And it seemed to her as if the ripples nodded in a wonderful way. So she took off her beloved red shoes, and threw them into the water, but they fell near the bank, and the little waves brought them back to land, just as if the river would

not accept them, as it could not give her Karl in exchange. Now she fancied she had not thrown the shoes out far enough. So she crept into a boat that lay amongst the rushes, and went to the far end of it, and flung the shoes out into the water.

The boat was not fastened, and her quick movement set it gliding away from the shore. Seeing this, she made haste to get out of the boat, but before she could do so it was quite a long way from the land, and was floating faster and faster. Gerda was very frightened, and began to cry. Only the sparrows heard her, and they couldn't carry her ashore; but they flew along the banks as if to comfort her, singing, "Here we arehere we are." Little Gerda sat still, with only her stockings on her feet, the little red shoes floated behind, but did not reach the boat, it went so fast. The river banks were very pretty lovely flowers, fine old trees, beautiful grass, and sheep and cows, but not a solitary

human being.

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Perhaps the river will carry me to little Karl," thought Gerda. Then she grew more cheerful, stood up, and watched the beautiful green banks for hours, until at last she came to a great cherry garden, in which was a little house with wonderful red and blue windows, a thatched roof, and in front of it two wooden soldiers presenting arms. Gerda called to them, thinking they were alive, but they did not answer, and the tide drove the boat straight to the shore. Gerda called in a still louder voice, and a very old woman, leaning on a crutch, came out of the house. She wore a large hat, to shelter her from the sun, and pretty flowers were painted on it.

"You poor little child!" said the old woman.

"To

think of your coming out into the world on this broad

stream!" and she pulled the boat crutch, and helped little Gerda out.

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ashore with her "Come and tell

us who you are, and how you came hither," said she. Then Gerda told her about poor little Karl and her search for him, but the old woman shook her head and said, Hum, hum." Gerda asked if she had seen Karl. "No," said the old woman, "but he may come still; so take heart and taste my cherries, and look at my flowers, which are prettier than any picture-book, for every one of them can tell a story." She then took Gerda by the hand, and led her into the house and shut the door. The windows were very high, and the red, blue, and yellow panes gave a strange light; but on the table were the finest cherries, and Gerda was allowed to eat as many as she chose. While she was eating, the old woman combed her hair with a golden comb, and her curling locks looked beautifully glossy round her cheerful little face, which was as round and fresh as a rose.

"I have not seen so sweet a maiden for a long time,' said the old woman. "Now we will live together." And while she was combing little Gerda's hair the child quite forgot about Karl, for the old woman had magic powers, though she was not wicked, but she wished very much to keep little Gerda with her. So she went into the garden, and extending her crutch over the rose trees, they sank into the dark ground, without leaving a trace behind. The old woman did this because she was afraid the rose trees would remind Gerda of little Karl.

Now she took Gerda into the garden. How sweet it

smelt! Every flower of every season was there in full bloom. Gerda jumped for joy, and played till the sun sank behind the tall cherry trees, and then she went to bed in a lovely room with red silk curtains, and her pillow being stuffed with violets, she slept and dreamt as a queen would on her wedding day. Next morning she played again with the flowers in the warm sunshine, and so the days flew by. Gerda knew every flower, but there seemed to be one missing, though she could not tell which. One day, however, she noticed the garden hat with its painted roses. The old woman had forgotten about her hat. "Why, it's the roses that are wanting," said Gerda, jumping amongst the flower beds, and looking for what was not to be found.

Then she sat down and cried; but her tears fell just on the spot where one of the rose trees had sunk into the ground. The warm tears watered the earth, and the rose tree shot up more blooming than ever. Gerda kissed the roses, and thought of little Karl. "Oh, how I have been wasting my time!" said the little girl. "I wanted to look for Karl. Do you know where he is?" she asked the roses. "Do you think he is dead?"

"Dead he is not," said the roses. "We have been into the earth where the dead lie, and Karl wasn't there." So Gerda went to the other flowers, and, peeping into each little cup, asked, "Do you know where Karl is?" but each flower stood dreaming in the sun, and thinking of its own story. And Gerda heard a great many of these, but none of the flowers knew anything about Karl.

The bine-weed said, "An old castle hangs over the narrow crossway, house-leek is climbing leaf by leaf

over its red walls, and there on the balcony stands a fair maiden, who bends over the parapet and looks into the road below. Is he not yet coming?' she says." "Does she mean Karl?" asked little Gerda. talking of my story," said the bine-weed.

"I'm

"Be

It is

Then Gerda questioned the little snowdrop. tween the trees hangs a plant fastened by ropes. a swing, and two little girls in snow-white dresses and long green ribbons fluttering from their hats sit swinging. Their brother, who is bigger than they, stands on the swing. He has put his arm round the rope to steady himself, for in one hand he holds a little bowl, and in the other a clay pipe: he is blowing soap-bubbles. The swing keeps going, and the pretty bubbles fly about, while the last still clings to the stem of the pipe, and rocks in the wind. The swing keeps going. A little black dog as light as the bubbles balances himself on his hind paws, and will get into the swing amongst the rest. Off goes the swing, the dog falls, barks, and is angry, the children tease him, and the bubbles burst. That is my song."

"It may be all very pretty," said Gerda; "but you tell it so sorrowfully, and you don't even mention little Karl."

Then Gerda went up to the buttercup. "You are a little bright sun," said Gerda. "Do you know where I can find my playfellow?" The buttercup sparkled so prettily, and looked at Gerda and said, "The bright sunshine shone warmly upon a little courtyard. The old grandmother sat out in the air on her chair, and her grand-daughter, a poor and pretty maidservant, was returning after a short visit. She kissed her grand