When it was done, all the children threw snowballs at it, till it fell
to pieces. And the little snow girl laughed and laughed, and was so
quick she threw more snowballs than any of them.

The old man and the old woman watched her, and were very proud.

"She is all our own," said the old woman.

"Our little white pigeon," said the old man.

In the evening she had another bowl of ice-porridge, and then she went
off again to play by herself in the yard.

"You'll be tired, my dear," says the old man.

"You'll sleep in the hut to-night, won't you, my love," says the old
woman, "after running about all day long?"

But the little daughter of the Snow only laughed. "By frosty night and
frosty day," she sang, and ran out of the door, laughing back at them
with shining eyes.

And so it went on all through the winter. The little daughter of the
Snow was singing and laughing and dancing all the time. She always ran
out into the night and played by herself till dawn. Then she'd come
in and have her ice-porridge. Then she'd play with the children. Then
she'd have ice-porridge again, and off she would go, out into the
night.

She was very good. She did everything the old woman told her. Only she