I believe it is gone, said he; but gone it was not. It was one of those glass splinters from the Magic Mirror, the wicked glass which made everything great and good reflected in it to appear little and hateful, and, which magnified everything ugly and mean. Poor Kay had also received a splinter in his heart, it would now become hard and cold like a lump of ice. He felt the pain no longer, but the splinter was there. Why do you cry? asked he- you look so ugly when you cry ! There is nothing the matter with me. Fie ! exclaimed he again – this rose has an insect in it, and just look at this ! After all, they are ugly roses, and it is an ugly box they grow in ! Then he kicked the box, and tore off the roses.

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20821, 3 June 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)

I believe it is gone, said he; but gone it was not. It was one of those glass splinters from the Magic Mirror, the wicked glass which made everything great and good reflected in it to appear little and hateful, and, which magnified everything ugly and mean. Poor Kay had also received a splinter in his heart, it would now become hard and cold like a lump of ice. He felt the pain no longer, but the splinter was there.

Why do you cry? asked he- you look so ugly when you cry ! There is nothing the matter with me. Fie ! exclaimed he again - this rose has an insect in it, and just look at this ! After all, they are ugly roses, and it is an ugly box they grow in ! Then he kicked the box, and tore off the roses.