A shrewish peasant woman had a daughter on whom she lavished
everything she could get, and a stepdaughter whom she neglected and
ill treated. In the mother's eyes the daughter had no faults, while
the stepdaughter was always blamed, and, try as she might, the poor
girl never could please. So unhappy was she made that her eyes were
often red from weeping. The sight of her tear-stained face only
angered the stepmother the more, and caused her to say to the girl's
father:
"Send her away, old man. My eyes are tired of the sight of her, and my
ears of the sound of her voice. Send her out of the house."
The father begged to have his daughter remain, but the shrew was
determined to be rid of her, and gave him no peace. At last, when he
could gainsay her no longer, he placed his daughter in a sledge and
drove her to the open fields. Here he left her, with nothing to shield
her from the bitter cold. Kissing her good-by, he drove away, not
daring to look back at Her.
Left alone by her father, the girl wandered across the bleak fields to
the edge of the forest, where she sat down under a fir-tree and
wept. A crackling sound caused her to look up, and she saw King Frost
springing from one tree to another. When he reached the fir-tree
he jumped down beside her with a bound. Snapping his fingers in her
lovely face, he asked:
"Do you know who I am? I will tell you. I am King Frost."
"Hail to you, great King!" smiled the maiden. "Have you come for me?"
"Are you warm, fair maiden?" he asked in answer.
"Yes, quite warm, King Frost," the maiden replied, although she was
shivering.
King Frost bent over her and snapped his fingers about her, until the
air seemed full of needles. Again he asked, "Are you still warm, dear
maiden?"
Her lips could scarcely move to utter the words, "Quite warm, King
Frost."
He snapped his teeth and cracked his fingers, till all the air was
filled with stinging things. His eyes glistened and for the last time
he asked, "Are you warm, now, beautiful maiden? Are you still warm, my
dear?"
She was now scarcely able to speak, but managed to gasp, "Still warm,
King Frost."
The gentle girl's patience and uncomplaining endurance caused King
Frost to take pity on her suffering. He arrayed her in a robe,
embroidered in silver and gold, and decked her with sparkling
diamonds. She glittered and shone, and was dazzling to behold. Then
placing her in his sleigh, he wrapped her in furs; and six white
horses bore them swiftly away.
The stepmother, at home, was baking pancakes for the girl's funeral
feast. "Go in the field," she said to her husband, "and bring your
daughter's body home, so we can bury her." The old man rose to obey,
when the little dog barked:
"Your daughter shall not die;
Her's cold and stiff shall lie."
The woman kicked the dog, then tried to coax it with a pancake,
telling it to say:
"Her daughter shall have gold;
His be frozen stiff and cold."
When the little dog had swallowed the pancake, he barked:
"His daughter shall be wed;
Her's shall be frozen dead."
The woman beat the dog, then coaxed it with more pancakes; but the
blows could not terrify it nor food persuade. It barked always the
same. Suddenly the door opened, and a huge chest was thrust into the
room, followed by the radiant stepdaughter, in a dress that dazzled
them with its beauty.
As soon as the stepmother recovered from her astonishment, she
ordered her husband to yoke the horses to the sledge, and take her own
daughter to the field. "Take care you leave her in the same place,"
the old woman cautioned. The father left the girl as he was bidden,
and returned to his home.
She was not long alone when King Frost came by.
"Are you warm, maiden?" he asked.
"You must be a fool not to see that my hands and feet are nearly
frozen," she angrily replied.
The King danced in front of her, and cracked his fingers.
"Are you warm, maiden?" he asked her, over and over. She cried with
rage, and called him rude names, until he froze the words on her lips,
and she was dead.
The mother waited for her daughter's return until she became
impatient; then she told her husband to take the sledge and go for
her. "But don't lose the chest," she added.
The dog under the table, barked:
"Your daughter frozen cold,
Will never need a chest of gold."
The old woman was scolding the dog for telling lies, when the door
opened. Rushing out to welcome her daughter and her treasures, she
clasped the frozen body in her arms; and the chill of it killed her.
* * * * *