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Updated: May 17, 2025
At last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls of snow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peony's figure, was struck with a new idea. "You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony," said she, "if your cheeks were not so red. And that puts me in mind!
Lindsey led her up the steps of the door, Violet and Peony looked into his face their eyes full of tears, which froze before they could run down their cheeks and again entreated him not to bring their snow-image into the house. "Not bring her in!" exclaimed the kind-hearted man. "Why, you are crazy, my little Violet! quite crazy, my small Peony!
Except at intervals, she could not distinctly hear what was said, but had merely a sweet impression that they were in a most loving mood, and were enjoying themselves highly, and that the business of making the snow-image went prosperously on.
And the Heidenberg stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to glare at good Mr. Lindsey, like a red-eyed demon, triumphing in the mischief which it had done! This, you will observe, was one of those rare cases, which yet will occasionally happen, where common-sense finds itself at fault. The remarkable story of the snow-image, though to that sagacious class of people to whom good Mr.
But her lips must be made very red redder than her cheeks. Perhaps, Peony, it will make them red if we both kiss them!" Accordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as if both her children were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth. But, as this did not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violet next proposed that the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peony's scarlet cheek.
What has been established as an element of good to one being may prove absolute mischief to another; even as the warmth of the parlor was proper enough for children of flesh and blood, like Violet and Peony, though by no means very wholesome, even for them, but involved nothing short of annihilation to the unfortunate snow-image.
The mother, as she listened, thought how fit and delightful an incident it would be, if fairies, or still better, if angel-children were to come from paradise, and play invisibly with her own darlings, and help them to make their snow-image, giving it the features of celestial babyhood!
This is our snow-image, which Peony and I have made, because we wanted another playmate. Did not we, Peony?" "Yes, papa," said crimson Peony. "This be our 'ittle snow-sister. Is she not beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!" "Pooh, nonsense, children!" cried their good, honest father, who, as we have already intimated, had an exceedingly common-sensible way of looking at matters.
But she must not make her come into the warm parlor; for, you know, our little snow-sister will not love the warmth." And forthwith the children began this great business of making a snow-image that should run about; while their mother, who was sitting at the window and overheard some of their talk, could not help smiling at the gravity with which they set about it.
Lindsey led her up the steps of the door, Violet and Peony looked into his face, their eyes full of tears, which froze before they could run down their cheeks, and again entreated him not to bring their snow-image into the house. "Not bring her in!" exclaimed the kind-hearted man. "Why, you are crazy, my little Violet! quite crazy, my small Peony!
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