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Of the Flower-Garden At the Old Woman’s Who Unders

           "Youmakemequitesad,"saidlittleGerda."Icannothelpthinkingofthedeadmaidens.Oh!islittleKayreallydead? TheRoseshavebeenintheearth,andtheysayno." 

           "Ding,dong!"soundedtheHyacinthbells."WedonottollforlittleKay;wedonotknowhim.Thatisourwayofsinging,theonlyonewehave." 

           AndGerdawenttotheRanunculuses,thatlookedforthfromamongtheshininggreenleaves. 

           "Youarealittlebrightsun!"saidGerda."TellmeifyouknowwhereIcanfindmyplayfellow." 

           AndtheRanunculusshonebrightly,andlookedagainatGerda.WhatsongcouldtheRanunculussing?ItwasonethatsaidnothingaboutKayeither. 

           "Inasmallcourtthebrightsunwasshininginthefirstdaysofspring.Thebeamsglideddownthewhitewallsofaneighbor’shouse,andclosebythefreshyellowflowersweregrowing,shininglikegoldinthewarmsun-rays. Anoldgrandmotherwassittingintheair;hergrand-daughter,thepoorandlovelyservantjustcomeforashortvisit.Sheknowshergrandmother.Therewasgold,purevirgingoldinthatblessedkiss. There,thatismylittlestory,"saidtheRanunculus. 

           "Mypooroldgrandmother!"sighedGerda."Yes,sheislongingforme,nodoubt:sheissorrowingforme,asshedidforlittleKay.ButIwillsooncomehome,andthenIwillbringKaywithme. Itisofnouseaskingtheflowers;theyonlyknowtheirownoldrhymes,andcantellmenothing." Andshetuckedupherfrock,toenablehertorunquicker;buttheNarcissusgaveheraknockontheleg,justasshewasgoingtojumpoverit. 

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