: The Little People of the Snow by Bryant William Cullen Bobbett Albert Engraver Fredericks Alfred Illustrator - Fairy tales Children's Picture Books

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Illustrator: Alfred Fredricks and Engraved by A. Bobbett

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 549 & 551 BROADWAY.

ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872,

BY D. APPLETON & CO.,

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW.

One little maiden, in that cottage home, Dwelt with her parents, light of heart and limb, Bright, restless, thoughtless, flitting here and there, Like sunshine on the uneasy ocean waves, And sometimes she forgot what she was bid, As Alice does.

A beautiful race were they, with baby brows, And fair, bright locks, and voices like the sound Of steps on the crisp snow, in which they talked With man, as friend with friend. A merry sight It was, when, crowding round the traveller, They smote him with their heaviest snow-flakes, flung Needles of frost in handfuls at his cheeks, And, of the light wreaths of his smoking breath, Wove a white fringe for his brown beard, and laughed Their slender laugh to see him wink and grin And make grim faces as he floundered on. But, when the spring came on, what terror reigned Among these Little People of the Snow! To them the sun's warm beams were shafts of fire, And the soft south wind was the wind of death. Away they flew, all with a pretty scowl Upon their childish faces, to the north, Or scampered upward to the mountain's top, And there defied their enemy, the Spring; Skipping and dancing on the frozen peaks, And moulding little snow-balls in their palms, And rolling them, to crush her flowers below, Down the steep snow-fields.

Mid-winter was the time, and Eva stood, Within the cottage, all prepared to dare The outer cold, with ample furry robe Close belted round her waist, and boots of fur, And a broad kerchief, which her mother's hand Had closely drawn about her ruddy cheek. "Now, stay not long abroad," said the good dame, "For sharp is the outer air, and, mark me well, Go not upon the snow beyond the spot Where the great linden bounds the neighboring field."

The little maiden promised, and went forth, And climbed the rounded snow-swells firm with frost Beneath her feet, and slid, with balancing arms, Into the hollows. Once, as up a drift She slowly rose, before her, in the way, She saw a little creature lily-cheeked, With flowing flaxen locks, and faint blue eyes, That gleamed like ice, and robe that only seemed Of a more shadowy whiteness than her cheek. On a smooth bank she sat.

On went the pair, until they reached the bound Where the great linden stood, set deep in snow, Up to the lower branches. "Here we stop," Said Eva, "for my mother has my word That I will go no further than this tree." Then the snow-maiden laughed: "And what is this? This fear of the pure snow, the innocent snow, That never harmed aught living? Thou mayst roam For leagues beyond this garden, and return In safety; here the grim wolf never prowls, And here the eagle of our mountain-crags Preys not in winter. I will show the way And bring thee safely home. Thy mother, sure, Counselled thee thus because thou hadst no guide."

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