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.
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