window to the other. The parents of these children had each a large wooden
box in which they cultivated kitchen herbs for their own use, and a little
rose-bush in each box, which grew splendidly. Now after a while the
parents decided to place these two boxes across the water-pipe, so that they
reached from one window to the other and looked like two banks of
flowers. Sweet-peas drooped over the boxes, and the rose-bushes shot forth
long branches, which were trained round the windows and clustered
together almost like a triumphal arch of leaves and flowers. The boxes were
very high, and the children knew they must not climb upon them, without
permission, but they were often, however, allowed to step out together and
sit upon their little stools under the rose-bushes, or play quietly. In winter
all this pleasure came to an end, for the windows were sometimes quite
frozen over. But then they would warm copper pennies on the stove, and
hold the warm pennies against the frozen pane; there would be very soon a
little round hole through which they could peep, and the soft bright eyes of
the little boy and girl would beam through the hole at each window as they
looked at each other. Their names were Kay and Gerda. In summer they
could be together with one jump from the window, but in winter they had to
go up and down the long staircase, and out through the snow before they
could meet.
“See there are the white bees swarming,” said Kay’s old grandmother one
day when it was snowing.
