was their haughtiness; till the footman's boy, who always wore slippers
and stood in the doorway, was almost too proud even to be looked at.'

'It must be awful!' said little Gerda, 'and yet Kay has won the
Princess!'

'If I had not been a crow, I should have taken her myself,
notwithstanding that I am engaged. They say he spoke as well as I could
have done myself, when I speak crow-language; at least so my sweetheart
says. He was a picture of good looks and gallantry, and then, he had not
come with any idea of wooing the Princess, but simply to hear her
wisdom. He admired her just as much as she admired him!'

'Indeed it was Kay then,' said Gerda; 'he was so clever he could do
mental arithmetic up to fractions. Oh, won't you take me to the Palace?'

'It's easy enough to talk,' said the crow; 'but how are we to manage it?
I will talk to my tame sweetheart about it; she will have some advice to
give us I daresay, but I am bound to tell you that a little girl like
you will never be admitted!'

'Oh, indeed I shall,' said Gerda; 'when Kay hears that I am here, he
will come out at once to fetch me.'

'Wait here for me by the stile,' said the crow, then he wagged his head
and flew off.

The evening had darkened in before he came back. 'Caw, caw,' he said,
'she sends you greeting. And here is a little roll for you; she got it
out of the kitchen where there is bread enough, and I daresay you are