Once upon a time, in a small village in the mountains, there lived a
blacksmith and his wife. They were poor but they were happy; the
blacksmith had always plenty of work, and their only sorrow was that
they had no children.
One day the blacksmith's wife walked from the village down into the
valley to a farmhouse to buy some eggs from the farmer, whom she knew.
On her way back, as it was a fine spring day and the snows had melted,
she loitered on the mountain so as to gather some wild-flowers.
As she was picking the flowers she heard some one muttering behind her,
and turning round, she saw an old woman, bent and worn, who was
muttering a supplication.
"What can I do for you?" asked the blacksmith's wife.
"Give me the eggs you have in that basket," said the old woman.
The blacksmith's wife, although she was afraid she would be scolded at
home, durst not refuse, and gave the eggs to the old woman.
"Thank you kindly," said the old woman; "in return for your kindness I
will grant you a wish."
The blacksmith's wife at once answered: "I wish to have a daughter who
shall be more beautiful than the Queen's daughter."
"Your wish shall be granted," said the old woman. "But take this charm,
hang it up over your hearth, and never give it away, for if you do, you
will give your daughter with it."
So saying the old woman gave the blacksmith's wife a small copper coin
made in the shape of a heart, and as soon as she had done this she
hobbled off into the wood.
The blacksmith's wife went home and told her husband about her
adventure, and they hung the copper coin over their hearth and they
laughed for joy.
As the fairy had predicted, a daughter was born to them, and she grew to
be such a lovely little child that the blacksmith and his wife were
almost frightened. She was more like a fairy than a mortal. It seemed as
if she had invisible wings; her skin was more delicate than a pearly
sea-shell, and one expected to see little elves dancing round her when
she played in the fields.
They had christened her Snowflower, because she was like the flowers
that grew on the great mountains. And the name was a proper one, for she
loved the snow-fields and the spaces of the great hills. Everybody who
saw her was amazed--some said that she would wed the King's son; others
that she would one day be the Empress of the West; but one old crone,
who was spiteful, said that she was much too beautiful to live long.
One day when Snowflower was nine years old, her father and her mother
had gone up into the hills to visit some friends. It was Saturday
afternoon, and they had left Snowflower in charge of the shop, and had
said that they would not be back till late. Snowflower was sitting
outside in the street, watching the sunset--it was a warm summer's
eve--when she heard some one singing a strange song.
Never had she heard anything so strange and so beautiful before: the
voice was a man's voice, deep and hoarse, and it seemed to come from
very far away; the song he sang was soft and sad, but it had a piercing
note in it, something that made you listen whether you wished to or no;
it was a voice which you felt must be obeyed.
Snowflower was lost in dreams, and when the singing stopped, she would
have given worlds and worlds for it to begin again. While she was
wondering who the singer could be, she suddenly became aware of a shadow
across the street, and she saw before her a tall minstrel carrying a
lute. His face was half muffled in a black cloak; and all that she could
see distinctly were two dark eyes, very sad, but bright as stars. The
sun had set, the stars were coming out, and Snowflower was afraid.
Nevertheless she at once asked him whether it was he who had been
singing. He said--
"Yes, it was I."
"Shall I ever hear you again?" asked Snowflower.
"Yes, if you will give me a reward," said the minstrel.
"What can I give you?" asked Snowflower. "I have no money, and my father
and my mother have gone to the farm and they won't be back till late."
"All I want," said the minstrel, "is the little copper coin in the shape
of a heart that hangs over your hearth."
"Oh! you may have that with pleasure," said Snowflower, "it is only a
brass farthing." And she ran indoors, and fetched it, and gave it to
him. "Only now you must sing to me again," she said.
"I promise to sing to you again, but not now," said the minstrel, and he
walked away into the darkness.
When Snowflower's father and mother came home, they noticed at once that
the little copper coin had gone, and Snowflower told them that she had
given it to a wandering minstrel.