She began dancing in the snow, like a little white spirit, tossing her long hair, and laughing softly to herself.

Wildly she danced, like snowflakes whirled in the wind.  Her eyes shone, and her hair flew round her, and she sang, while the old people watched and wondered, and thanked God.

This is what she sang:—­

    “No warm blood in me doth glow,
    Water in my veins doth flow;
    Yet I’ll laugh and sing and play
    By frosty night and frosty day—­
    Little daughter of the Snow.

    “But whenever I do know
    That you love me little, then
    I shall melt away again. 
    Back into the sky I’ll go—­
    Little daughter of the Snow.”

“God of mine, isn’t she beautiful!” said the old man.  “Run, wife, and fetch a blanket to wrap her in while you make clothes for her.”

The old woman fetched a blanket, and put it round the shoulders of the little snow girl.  And the old man picked her up, and she put her little cold arms round his neck.

“You must not keep me too warm,” she said.

Well, they took her into the hut, and she lay on a bench in the corner farthest from the stove, while the old woman made her a little coat.

The old man went out to buy a fur hat and boots from a neighbour for the little girl.  The neighbour laughed at the old man; but a rouble is a rouble everywhere, and no one turns it from the door, and so he sold the old man a little fur hat, and a pair of little red boots with fur round the tops.

Then they dressed the little snow girl.

“Too hot, too hot,” said the little snow girl.  “I must go out into the cool night.”

“But you must go to sleep now,” said the old woman.

“By frosty night and frosty day,” sang the little girl.  “No; I will play by myself in the yard all night, and in the morning I’ll play in the road with the children.”

Nothing the old people said could change her mind.

“I am the little daughter of the Snow,” she replied to everything, and she ran out into the yard into the snow.

How she danced and ran about in the moonlight on the white frozen snow!

The old people watched her and watched her.  At last they went to bed; but more than once the old man got up in the night to make sure she was still there.  And there she was, running about in the yard, chasing her shadow in the moonlight and throwing snowballs at the stars.

In the morning she came in, laughing, to have breakfast with the old people.  She showed them how to make porridge for her, and that was very simple.  They had only to take a piece of ice and crush it up in a little wooden bowl.

Then after breakfast she ran out in the road, to join the other children.  And the old people watched her.  Oh, proud they were, I can tell you, to see a little girl of their own out there playing in the road!  They fairly longed for a sledge to come driving by, so that they could run out into the road and call to the little snow girl to be careful.