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Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite
dark, and evening-- the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness
there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet.
When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of
that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so
large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across
the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been
laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do
capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself.
So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and
blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held
a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole
livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.
She crept along
trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!
The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls
around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all
the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast
goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought.
In a
corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she
seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up
to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for
she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her
father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her
she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest
cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.
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