Lean Gray Wolf comes creeping, creeping, creeping up. He smells in the snow the tracks of the little white rabbits. He sniffs, and sniffs, and sniffs.
There was silence for several moments, then the Winter Manito laid aside his scepter of ice and said, ‘Thou art welcome.’
When Christmas-time approached, quite young trees were felled, sometimes trees which were neither so old nor so large as this Fir Tree. These young trees were just the most beautiful.
So the little girl had to walk with naked feet, which were red and blue with cold. No one had bought anything of her the live-long day; no one had given her a penny.