The Cold Snowman
The Cold Snowman
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It happened once that some children built a great big snowman. You should have seen him!
On his hands were woolen gloves, but they were rather holey. Down his front were large round pebbles for buttons and round his neck was an old woolen scarf. He really looked very grand indeed.
The children went indoors at tea-time, and didn't come out again, because it was dark. So the snowman stood all alone in the back yard, and he was very lonely.
He began to sigh, and Foolish-One, the little elf who lived under the old apple tree, heard him and felt sorry. He ran out and spoke to the snowman.
'Are you lonely?' he asked.
'Very,' answered the snowman.
'Are you cold?' asked Foolish-One.
'Who wouldn't be in this frosty weather?' said the snowman.
'I'm sorry for you,' said Foolish-One. 'Shall I sing to you?'
'If you like,' said the snowman. So the elf began to sing a doleful little song about a star that fell from the sky and couldn't get back. It was so sad that the snowman cried a few tears, and they froze at once on his white, snowy cheeks.
'Stop singing that song,' he begged the elf. 'It makes me cry, and it is very painful to do that when your tears freeze on you. Ooooh! Isn't the wind cold?'
'Poor snowman!' said Foolish-One, tying the snowman's scarf so tightly that he nearly choked.
'Don't do that! Gasped the snowman. 'you're strangling me.'
'You have no coat,' said Foolish-One, looking sadly at the snowman. 'You will be frozen stiff before morning.'
'Oooh!' said the snowman, in alarm. 'Frozen stiff! That sounds dreadful! I wish I wasn't so cold.'
'Shall I get you a nice warm coat?' asked the elf. 'I have one that would keep you very cosy.'
'Well, seeing that you only one come up to my knees, 'I'm afraid that your coat would only be big enough for a handkerchief for me, ' said the snowman. 'Ooh! There's that cold wind again. '
Just then a smell of burning came over the air, and the elf sniffed it. He jumped to his feet in excitement. Just the thing!
'Snowman!' he creid. 'There's a bonfire. I can smell it. Let us go to it and warm ourselves.'
The snowman tried to move. He was very heavy, and little bits of snow broke off him. But at last ha managed to shuffle Along somehow, and he followed the dancing elf down the garden path to the corner of the garden where the bonfire was burning.
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'Here we are!' said the elf, in delight. 'See what a fine blaze there is. Come, snowman, draw close, and I will tell you a story.'
The snowman came as close to the fire as he could. It was certainly very warm. He couldn't feel the cold wind at all now. It was much better.
'Once upon a time,' began the elf, 'there was a princess called Marigold. Are you nice and warm, snowman?'
'Very,' said the snowman, drowsily. The heat was making him sleepy. 'Go on, Foolish-One.'
'Now this princess lived in a high castle,' went on Foolish-One, leaning against the snowman as he talked. 'And one day – are you sure you're quite warm, snowman?'
'Very, very warm,' murmured the snowman, his hat slipping to one side of his head. Plonk! One of his stone buttons fell off. Plonk! Then another. How odd!
Foolish-One went on with his story. It wasn't a very exciting one, and the snowman hardly listened. He was so warm and sleepy. Foolish-One suddenly felt sleepy, too. He stopped in the middle of his tale and shut his eyes. Then very gently he began to snore.
He woke up with a dreadful jump, for he heard a most peculiar noise.
'Sizzle-sizzle-sizzle,ss-ss-sss-ss!'
What could it be? He jumped up. The fire was almost out. The snowman had gone!
Only his hat, scarf and gloves remained, and they were in a pile on the ground.
'Who has put the fire out?' cried Foolish-One in a rage. 'Snowman, where are you? Why have you gone off and left all your clothes? You will catch your death of cold!'
But the snowman didn't answer. He was certainly quite gone. Foolish-One began to cry.
The fire was quite out now, and a pool of water lay all round it. Who had poured the water there? And where, oh where, was that nice snowman?
He called him up the garden and down. He hunted for him everywhere. Then he went home and found his thickest coat and warmest hat. He put them on, took his stick and went out.
'I will find that snowman if it takes me a thousand years to do it' he cried. And off he went to begin his search. He hasn't found him yet! Poor Foolish-One, I don't somehow think he ever will!
