Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor , and the children 's faces grew rosier , and they laughed and played games in the street . `` We have bread now ! '' they cried . Then the snow came , and after the snow came the frost . The streets looked as if they were made of silver , they were so bright and glistening ; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses , everybody went about in furs , and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice . The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder , but he would not leave the Prince , he loved him too well . He picked up crumbs outside the baker 's door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings . But at last he knew that he was going to die . He had just strength to fly up to the Prince 's shoulder once more . `` Good-bye , dear Prince ! '' he murmured , `` will you let me kiss your hand ? '' `` I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last , little Swallow , '' said the Prince , `` you have stayed too long here ; but you must kiss me on the lips , for I love you . '' `` It is not to Egypt that I am going , '' said the Swallow . `` I am going to the House of Death . Death is the brother of Sleep , is he not ? '' And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips , and fell down dead at his feet . At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue , as if something had broken . The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two . It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost . Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors .
As they passed the column he XXXXX up at the statue : `` Dear me !
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