“Whatisstrange，dearmother？”askedViolet。“Dearfather，do
　　notyouseehowitis？Thisisoursnow-image，whichPeonyandI
　　havemade，becausewewantedanotherplaymate。Didnotwe，Peony？”
　　“Yes，papa。”saidcrimsonPeony。“Thisbeour’ittlesnow-sister。
　　Isshenotbeau-ti-ful？Butshegavemesuchacoldkiss！”
　　“Poh，nonsense，children！”criedtheirgood，honestfather，who，as
　　wehavealreadyintimated，hadanexceedinglycommon-sensiblewayof
　　lookingatmatters。“Donottellmeofmakinglivefiguresoutof
　　snow。Come，wife；thislittlestrangermustnotstayoutinthe
　　bleakairamomentlonger。Wewillbringherintotheparlor；and
　　youshallgiveherasupperofwarmbreadandmilk，andmakeheras
　　comfortableasyoucan。Meanwhile，Iwillinquireamongtheneighbors；
　　or，ifnecessary，sendthecity-crieraboutthestreets，togive
　　noticeofalostchild。”
　　Sosaying，thishonestandverykind-heartedmanwasgoing
　　towardthelittlewhitedamsel，withthebestintentionsintheworld。
　　ButVioletandPeony，eachseizingtheirfatherbythehand，earnestly
　　besoughthimnottomakehercomein。
　　“Dearfather。”criedViolet，puttingherselfbeforehim，“itis
　　truewhatIhavebeentellingyou！Thisisourlittlesnow-girl，and
　　shecannotliveanylongerthanwhileshebreathesthecoldwestwind。
　　Donotmakehercomeintothehotroom！”
　　“Yes，father，shoutedPeony，stampinghislittlefoot，so
　　mightilywasheinearnest，“thisbenothingbutour’ittle
　　snow-child！Shewillnotlovethehotfire！”
　　“Nonsense，children，nonsense，nonsense！”criedthefather，half
　　vexed，halflaughingatwhatheconsideredtheirfoolishobstinacy。
　　“Runintothehouse，thismoment！Itistoolatetoplayanylonger，
　　now。Imusttakecareofthislittlegirlimmediately，orshewill
　　catchherdeath-a-cold！”
　　“Husband！dearhusband！”saidhiswife，inalowvoice-forshehad
　　beenlookingnarrowlyatthesnow-child，andwasmoreperplexedthan
　　ever-“thereissomethingverysingularinallthis。Youwillthinkme
　　foolish-but-but-mayitnotbethatsomeinvisibleangelhasbeen
　　attractedbythesimplicityandgoodfaithwithwhichourchildrenset
　　abouttheirundertaking？Mayhenothavespentanhourofhis
　　immortalityinplayingwiththosedearlittlesouls？andsotheresult
　　iswhatwecallamiracle。No，no！Donotlaughatme；Iseewhata
　　foolishthoughtitis！”
　　“Mydearwife。”repliedthehusband，laughingheartily，“youareas
　　muchachildasVioletandPeony。”
　　Andinonesensesoshewas，forallthroughlifeshehadkept
　　herheartfullofchildlikesimplicityandfaith，whichwasaspure
　　andclearascrystal；and，lookingatallmattersthroughthis
　　transparentmedium，shesometimessawtruthssoprofound，thatother
　　peoplelaughedatthemasnonsenseandabsurdity。
　　ButnowkindMr。Lindseyhadenteredthegarden，breakingawayfrom
　　histwochildren，whostillsenttheirshrillvoicesafterhim，
　　beseechinghimtoletthesnow-childstayandenjoyherselfinthe
　　coldwestwind。Asheapproached，thesnow-birdstooktoflight。The
　　littlewhitedamsel，also，fledbackward，shakingherhead，asifto
　　say，“Pray，donottouchme！”androguishly，asitappeared，leading
　　himthroughthedeepestofthesnow。Once，thegoodmanstumbled，
　　andfloundereddownuponhisface，sothat，gatheringhimselfup
　　again，withthesnowstickingtohisroughpilot-clothsack，helooked
　　aswhiteandwintryasasnow-imageofthelargestsize。Someofthe
　　neighbors，meanwhile，seeinghimfromtheirwindows，wonderedwhat
　　couldpossesspoorMr。Lindseytoberunningabouthisgardenin
　　pursuitofasnow-drift，whichthewestwindwasdrivinghitherand
　　thither！Atlength，afteravastdealoftrouble，hechasedthelittle
　　strangerintoacorner，whereshecouldnotpossiblyescapehim。His
　　wifehadbeenlookingon，and，itbeingnearlytwilight，was
　　wonder-strucktoobservehowthesnow-childgleamedandsparkled，
　　andhowsheseemedtoshedaglowallroundabouther；andwhendriven
　　intothecorner，shepositivelyglistenedlikeastar！Itwasafrosty
　　kindofbrightness，too，likethatofanicicleinthemoonlight。
　　ThewifethoughtitstrangethatgoodMr。Lindseyshouldseenothing
　　remarkableinthesnow-child’sappearance。
　　“Come，youoddlittlething！”criedthehonestman，seizingher
　　bythehand，Ihavecaughtyouatlast，andwillmakeyou
　　comfortableinspiteofyourself。Wewillputanicewarmpairof
　　worstedstockingsonyourfrozenlittlefeet，andyoushallhavea
　　goodthickshawltowrapyourselfin。Yourpoorwhitenose，Iam
　　afraid，isactuallyfrost-bitten。Butwewillmakeitallright。
　　Comealongin。”
　　Andso，withamostbenevolentsmileonhissagaciousvisage，all
　　purpleasitwaswiththecold，thisverywell-meaninggentleman
　　tookthesnow-childbythehandandledhertowardsthehouse。She
　　followedhim，droopinglyandreluctant；foralltheglowandsparkle
　　wasgoneoutofherfigure；andwhereasjustbeforeshehad
　　resembledabright，frosty，star-gemmedevening，withacrimson
　　gleamonthecoldhorizon，shenowlookedasdullandlanguidasa
　　thaw。AskindMr。Lindseyledherupthestepsofthedoor，Violetand
　　Peonylookedintohisface-theireyesfulloftears，whichfroze
　　beforetheycouldrundowntheircheeks-andagainentreatedhimnot
　　tobringtheirsnow-imageintothehouse。
　　“Notbringherin！”exclaimedthekind-heartedman。“Why，youare
　　crazy，mylittleViolet！-quitecrazy，mysmallPeony！Sheissocold，
　　already，thatherhandhasalmostfrozenmine，inspiteofmythick
　　gloves。Wouldyouhaveherfreezetodeath？”
　　Hiswife，ashecameupthesteps，hadbeentakinganotherlong，
　　earnest，almostawe-strickengazeatthelittlewhitestranger。She
　　hardlyknewwhetheritwasadreamorno；butshecouldnothelp
　　fancyingthatshesawthedelicateprintofViolet’sfingersonthe
　　child’sneck。Itlookedjustasif，whileVioletwasshapingoutthe
　　image，shehadgivenitagentlepatwithherhand，andhad
　　neglectedtosmooththeimpressionquiteaway。
　　“Afterall，husband。”saidthemother，recurringtoherideathat
　　theangelswouldbeasmuchdelightedtoplaywithVioletandPeonyas
　　sheherselfwas，“afterall，shedoeslookstrangelylikea
　　snow-image！Idobelievesheismadeofsnow！”
　　Apuffofthewestwindblewagainstthesnow-child，andagain
　　shesparkledlikeastar。
　　“Snow！”repeatedgoodMr。Lindsey，drawingthereluctantguestover
　　hishospitablethreshold。“Nowondershelookslikesnow。Sheis
　　halffrozen，poorlittlething！Butagoodfirewillputeverythingto
　　rights。”
　　Withoutfurthertalk，andalwayswiththesamebestintentions，
　　thishighlybenevolentandcommon-sensibleindividualledthelittle
　　whitedamsel-drooping，drooping，drooping，moreandmore-outof
　　thefrostyair，andintohiscomfortableparlor。AHeidenbergstove，
　　filledtothebrimwithintenselyburninganthracite，wassendinga
　　brightgleamthroughtheisinglassofitsirondoor，andcausingthe
　　vaseofwateronitstoptofumeandbubblewithexcitement。Awarm，
　　sultrysmellwasdiffusedthroughouttheroom。Athermometeronthe
　　wallfurthestfromthestovestoodateightydegrees。Theparlorwas
　　hungwithredcurtains，andcoveredwitharedcarpet，andlookedjust
　　aswarmasitfelt。Thedifferencebetwixttheatmospherehereandthe
　　cold，wintrytwilightoutofdoors，waslikesteppingatoncefrom
　　NovaZemblatothehottestpartofIndia，orfromtheNorthPole
　　intoanoven。O，thiswasafineplaceforthelittlewhitestranger！
　　Thecommon-sensiblemanplacedthesnow-childonthehearth-rug，
　　rightinfrontofthehissingandfumingstove。
　　“Nowshewillbecomfortable！”criedMr。Lindsey，rubbinghishands
　　andlookingabouthim，withthepleasantestsmileyoueversaw。
　　“Makeyourselfathome，mychild。”
　　Sad，sadanddrooping，lookedthelittlewhitemaiden，asshestood
　　onthehearth-rug，withthehotblastofthestovestrikingthrough
　　herlikeapestilence。Once，shethrewaglancewistfullytowardthe
　　windows，andcaughtaglimpse，throughitsredcurtains，ofthe
　　snow-coveredroofs，andthestarsglimmeringfrostily，andallthe
　　deliciousintensityofthecoldnight。Thebleakwindrattledthe
　　window-panes，asifitweresummoninghertocomeforth。Butthere
　　stoodthesnow-child，drooping，beforethehotstove！
　　Butthecommon-sensiblemansawnothingamiss。
　　“Come，wife。”saidhe，“letherhaveapairofthickstockings
　　andawoollenshawlorblanketdirectly；andtellDoratogiveher
　　somewarmsupperassoonasthemilkboils。You，VioletandPeony，
　　amuseyourlittlefriend。Sheisoutofspirits，yousee，atfinding
　　herselfinastrangeplace。Formypart，Iwillgoaroundamongthe
　　neighbors，andfindoutwhereshebelongs。”
　　Themother，meanwhile，hadgoneinsearchoftheshawland
　　stockings；forherownviewofthematter，howeversubtleand
　　delicate，hadgivenway，asitalwaysdid，tothestubbornmaterialism
　　ofherhusband。Withoutheedingtheremonstrancesofhistwochildren，
　　whostillkeptmurmuringthattheirlittlesnow-sisterdidnotlove
　　thewarmth，goodMr。Lindseytookhisdeparture，shuttingtheparlor
　　doorcarefullybehindhim。Turningupthecollarofhissackover
　　hisears，heemergedfromthehouse，andhadbarelyreachedthe
　　street-gate，whenhewasrecalledbythescreamsofVioletand
　　Peony，andtherappingofathimbledfingeragainsttheparlorwindow。
　　“Husband！husband！”criedhiswife，showingherhorror-stricken
　　facethroughthewindow-panes。“Thereisnoneedofgoingforthe
　　child’sparents！”
　　“Wetoldyouso，father！”screamedVioletandPeony，ashe
　　reenteredtheparlor。“Youwouldbringherin；andnowourpoor-dear-
　　beau-ti-fullittlesnow-sisteristhawed！”
　　Andtheirownsweetlittlefaceswerealreadydissolvedintears；
　　sothattheirfather，seeingwhatstrangethingsoccasionallyhappen
　　inthisevery-dayworld，feltnotalittleanxiouslesthischildren
　　mightbegoingtothawtoo！Intheutmostperplexity，hedemandedan
　　explanationofhiswife。Shecouldonlyreply，that，beingsummonedto
　　theparlorbythecriesofVioletandPeony，shefoundnotraceofthe
　　littlewhitemaiden，unlessitweretheremainsofaheapofsnow，
　　which，whileshewasgazingatit，meltedquiteawayuponthe
　　hearth-rug。
　　“Andthereyouseeallthatisleftofit！”addedshe，pointing
　　toapoolofwater，infrontofthestove。
　　“Yes，father，saidViolet，lookingreproachfullyathim，through
　　hertears，“thereisallthatisleftofourdearlittlesnow-sister！”
　　“Naughtyfather！”criedPeony，stampinghisfoot，and-Ishudderto
　　say-shakinghislittlefistatthecommon-sensibleman。“Wetold
　　youhowitwouldbe！Whatfordidyoubringherin？”
　　AndtheHeidenbergstove，throughtheisinglassofitsdoor，seemed
　　toglareatgoodMr。Lindsey，likeared-eyeddemon，triumphinginthe
　　mischiefwhichithaddone！
　　This，youwillobserve，wasoneofthoserarecases，whichyetwill
　　occasionallyhappen，wherecommon-sensefindsitselfatfault。The
　　remarkablestoryofthesnow-image，thoughtothatsagaciousclass
　　ofpeopletowhomgoodMr。Lindseybelongsitmayseembuta
　　childishaffair，is，nevertheless，capableofbeingmoralizedin
　　variousmethods，greatlyfortheiredification。Oneofitslessons，
　　forinstance，mightbe，thatitbehoovesmen，andespeciallymenof
　　benevolence，toconsiderwellwhattheyareabout，and，before
　　actingontheirphilanthropicpurposes，tobequitesurethatthey
　　comprehendthenatureandalltherelationsofthebusinessinhand。
　　Whathasbeenestablishedasanelementofgoodtoonebeingmayprove
　　absolutemischieftoanother；evenasthewarmthoftheparlorwas
　　properenoughforchildrenoffleshandblood，likeVioletand
　　Peony-thoughbynomeansverywholesome，evenforthem-but
　　involvednothingshortofannihilationtotheunfortunatesnow-image。
　　But，afterall，thereisnoteachinganythingtowisemenofgood
　　Mr。Lindsey’sstamp。Theyknoweverything-oh，tobesure！-everything
　　thathasbeen，andeverythingthatis，andeverythingthat，byany
　　futurepossibility，canbe。And，shouldsomephenomenonofnatureor
　　providencetranscendtheirsystem，theywillnotrecognizeit，evenif
　　itcometopassundertheirverynoses。