On and on and on went Little White Rabbit weeping. Soon a small voice called out, ‘Good morning, Little White Rabbit! Why do you weep?’ It was Busy Little Ant.
The wizard flew into a rage, and said, ‘Chop her hands off, otherwise I cannot touch her.’ The miller was terrified, and exclaimed, ‘How can I cut off the hands of my own child?’
Travellers came to the City of the Emperor and admired it, and the Palace and the Garden, but when they heard the song of the Nightingale, they said: ‘That is the best of all!’
The Snow Queen kissed Kay again, and then he forgot all about little Gerda, Grandmother, and all the others at home.
There lived an old woman who possessed a very pretty garden, wherein she cultivated a most beautiful bed of tulips. The pixies, so delighted in this spot, would carry their elfin babes thither, and sing them to rest.