Man fastening grain stalks on post in front yard of house"A SHEAF OF GRAIN IS FASTENED UP IN THE YARD OF EVERY COUNTRY HOME"
"A SHEAF OF GRAIN IS FASTENED UP IN THE YARD OF EVERY COUNTRY HOME"
I am afraid you will be getting as impatient for the Christmas tree as Sigrid. But a Swedish Christmas is the most joyous season of the year. And the merrymaking often lasts three weeks. Even the birds are not forgotten, for a sheaf of grain is fastened up in the yard of every country home for their Christmas dinner.
At last, the folding doors of the parlour were opened by invisible hands. There stood the tree ablaze with candles and ornaments, but no presents. For a moment every one was silent for the wonder of it.
Mrs. Lund began to sing the old carol, "Now the Christmas Has Come," and the others joined in.
After Major Lund had read the story of the Babe in the Manger, the children caught hold of hands and danced about the tree.Round and round they spun. In a wink, the circle broke and the long line of young people went dancing in and out through the rooms of the house.
"Come and join us, father," they shouted. "Come, Aunt Frederika and mother." Soon every one was drawn into the chain, even the servants in the kitchen.
When they were out of breath with laughing, singing, and dancing, they sat round a large table near the tree.
"What is all that noise about?" exclaimed Major Lund. He pretended to be surprised. "Erik, there seems to be a great to-do outside the door. Open it and see what is wanted."
Erik opened it a crack. In ran a little old man with a long white beard. He wore a rough gray jacket, knee-breeches, and a tall, pointed red cap.
"The Tomt, the Tomt," cried Sigrid.
"Is there any naughty child here, whodoesn't deserve a present?" asked the gnome. He hopped about and made a great deal of noise for a small person.
Anders hid behind his mother's skirt. He was always a little afraid of Tomt, who is much like our Santa Claus.
"No, we haven't any naughty children," replied the father.
"Then I shall leave some presents from my packet," cried Tomt. He darted out into the hall and came back slowly tugging some large packages. Then he vanished as quickly as he had come.
"Now, Erik, you may bring the baskets and help me give out the presents," said Major Lund.
Beneath the low boughs of the fir-tree were several large baskets, heaped with presents. Major Lund read aloud the verse on each neat package before Erik passed it. Oh, such a heap of presents for each and all! It wasquite late in the evening before all the bundles were opened. What a hand-shaking and kissing there was!
"I thought that looked like a foot-pusher when Tomt brought it in," said Sigrid, who shone with happiness over her new treasure.
"How proud I am of my children," said Mrs. Lund, as Sigrid and Erik were thanking her for their gifts. "I am sure I had no idea you could knit so well. I shall use the cozy for afternoon coffee to-morrow. And the Viking ship tray is really beautiful, Erik."
Little children should have been abed and asleep when the family finally sat down to their supper. But it was Christmas Eve, and nobody minded. Among all the good things that Sigrid ate that night, I must tell you about two dishes that every Swedish girl eats for her Christmas supper,—lut-fisk and rice porridge. The big bowl of porridge had a crisscrossing of powdered cinnamon over thetop. Inside was one almond. The person who found it would be the next one in the family to be married.
For weeks, the Christmas lut-fisk—a kind of fish—had soaked in lye. Then it was cooked a long time. Whenever Sigrid lifted a portion on her fork, it fell apart in delicate flakes that were quite transparent.
"We must not forget to put out a dish of porridge and milk for Tomt when he comes back in the night," said Erik, as the children were getting ready for bed.
"I'll bring Anders' little chair from the nursery, because it is so low Tomt can reach up to it," said Sigrid. "If I put it beside the kitchen door, I am sure he will see it when he comes in."
Early the next morning,—oh, very, very early,—Anders crept down-stairs to see if Tomt had been there.
"He drank all the milk and ate most of theporridge," cried Anders, in great excitement. Then he ran back to let Miss Eklund finish dressing him.
"It seems more like night than morning," exclaimed Erik. It was not six o'clock, but the children were starting for church. Indeed, it could not have been blacker at midnight. But in almost every window that they passed two candles burned brightly. When they returned for their breakfast, after the joyous Christmas service, the sun had not yet risen.
For days the festivities continued.
"Please, mother, may we keep the tree till Knut's Day?" begged Anders on New Year's afternoon. The candles had been relighted on the tree for a party for some poor children. The last happy child had gone home, loaded with goodies.
Mrs. Lund consented. But even Knut's Day, the thirteenth of January, came all too soon. Then the children helped to "rob thetree," as the Swedes say when they take off its pretty trinkets. They looked very solemn as one of the maids carried the tree into the back-yard.
"Now Christmas is really over," mourned Erik, "and school begins to-morrow."
AT GRANDMOTHER'S
"Pera, you do remember me, don't you? Oh, you nice old dog!" Anders threw his arms around the neck of a small shaggy yellow dog that was wriggling almost out of his skin with joy. You could not have told which was the happier, the dog or the boy.
"Just think! I haven't seen you for six months, Pera!" The two playmates romped across grandmother's lawn to the porch, where Erik was sitting on the steps with a tennis racket, waiting for his father.
"Sigrid has been hunting everywhere for you, Anders," said Erik.
"Here you are," exclaimed Sigrid a minute later, as she spied Anders. "Larsson saysthere is a baby calf over in the barn, and he will show it to us if we will go now."
Anders jumped up quickly, and followed by the dog, the children ran toward the group of barns and stables, at some distance from the house.
"Look at all those wild strawberries in this field," said Anders.
"I had forgotten that it was time for them. I must ask grandmother if we can pick all we want," said Sigrid.
"I want to see father's new sailboat. Have you been down to the lake yet?" asked Anders.
"No," said Sigrid. "Let's go around and see everything. Mother says we shall stay all summer, because poor grandmother is so old and feeble she doesn't like to leave her. Larsson, Larsson, where are you?"
The old farmer, who had taken care of the grounds and farm for many years, hobbled outto the barn door to welcome the children and to show them the new calf, the little pigs, and the chickens.
No place in the world is quite so interesting as grandmother's old house, whether you are a Swedish or an American girl.
Sigrid's grandmother lived in a fine old house on a hilltop which overlooked Lake Mälar. It was only a short journey of two or three hours from Stockholm, yet it was quite out in the country, several miles from any village. As you drove through the avenue of huge beech-trees, you would be curious to know why so many small, low-lying buildings were grouped near the house. They were placed to form three sides of a square, after the fashion of many Swedish country places.
Off in the distance were the barns, which the children visited, and another group of red cottages, where the farm-helpers and their families lived. These people lived in a littleworld by themselves, with everything they needed right on the grounds. If Mrs. Lund wished fish for dinner, she could not send a maid to market to buy a live fish from a tank of water, as she did in Stockholm. Instead, one of the servants caught the fish in the lake, or she ordered smoked fish from the storehouse.
On each side of the family residence were houses for the servants. Some of the small separate sheds were used for washing, baking, tools, and provisions. But you would enjoy a peep into some of these buildings with the children.
The new sailboat was anchored at the wharf near the bath-house. "Father has promised to teach Erik how to sail this summer," said Sigrid. They were clinging to the wharf railing, so that they could get a glimpse of the little cabin, with its two bunks and red cushions. "I am glad you learned to swimlast summer, for now we can have such sport when Karin and Elsa get here."
Sigrid had learned to swim when she was very small. Look in your geography and you will see that almost one-tenth of the whole surface of Sweden is covered with lakes and rivers. There is water, water everywhere. Just fancy how miserable a Swedish mother would be if her little daughter could not swim!
The door of the storehouse stood open when the children climbed the hill from the lake, so they slipped in after Svea. On the outside, it was just a mound of grassy earth, with a door cut in the grass, but no windows.
"Isn't it cool in here!" exclaimed Anders. "Svea, aren't you going to skim the milk?"
"Later in the day, Anders," said the maid, who held her lantern up over her head while she hunted for the sausages.
From above, hung long strings of sausages, smoked hams, and fish. In the dim light of the lantern, the children could see the big round cheeses and the bins of potatoes. The pans of milk were set to cool in another room of this queer storehouse.
"I wish you would give us some lingon jam," said Sigrid. "The kind we had last year, Svea."
"Wait till I open a new jar. Now, run ahead, for I want to lock the door," replied Svea. She had not forgotten how the children had teased her the summer before for their favourite jam of red Swedish berries.
"Next week will be the time for washing. Perhaps mother will let us ride down to the lake when the clothes are carried there," said Sigrid. She tried to lift herself up on the window-sill to look into the wash-house, where the huge copper kettle was ready to boil the clothes, but she was not tall enough.
"Never mind," she said. "We can get into the bake-house, I am sure. Sometime, Svea says, I may help her bake bread. It must be almost time now, for she hasn't made any for several months."
In the city, Sigrid's mother bought her rye bread from a baker, but grandmother had her bread baked three or four times a year in this little house. Most of the room was filled by the huge stone fireplace, which was heated to a high temperature. Then the coals were raked off and the rye bread cooked on the hot stones.
"What does she do with this flat round piece of wood with a short handle?" asked Anders, who was exploring.
"Oh," said Sigrid, "it is a great lark to watch her. She rolls out the batter quite thin, and slips that wooden shovel beneath each cake. Then she takes this other wooden spade with a long handle, shakes the cakefrom the little spade to that one, and thrusts it on the hot stones. Svea does it very quickly, but she laughed when I asked if it was hard, so I don't believe it is as easy as it looks."
Woman putting bread in large brick oven little girl watchingBAKING RYE BREAD AT GRANDMOTHER'S
BAKING RYE BREAD AT GRANDMOTHER'S
"Don't you think it is time for dinner? I am so hungry," said Anders.
"Guess what we are going to have to-day," said Sigrid.
"Pancakes and jelly," Anders replied promptly.
"No, sour milk, with powdered ginger on top."
"Let's run, then," said Anders, "because I don't want to be late and have father say I cannot have any."
But they arrived in season and ate their full share of the white curds, which they always enjoyed.
Inside of the old house, you would be amazed at the size of the rooms. Thoughthey were simply furnished, there was much choice old carved furniture, lovely plants, and vines, so that the rooms were very cheery. The floors were scrubbed beautifully clean and covered with rugs. Everywhere was exquisite order and neatness.
As in the city home, the children had a large nursery, where they always played during the little time they were indoors. A trapeze hung between the nursery and an adjoining room; a large cushion rested beneath. On rainy days, the children hung from this indoor swing and climbed the ropes like young monkeys.
"One, two, three, four, five," counted Sigrid, as she sat on the porch a few days after their arrival. "Why, are all those old women going to help with the washing to-morrow, mother?"
"Yes; we shall need them all. Larsson has arranged for them to sleep at some of theservants' houses, so they will be ready to begin very early in the morning."
The queer procession of old women, with coloured kerchiefs tied over their heads, slowly filed down the road. Long before the children were awake the next morning, a fire had been lighted in the wash-house beneath the monster kettle, and the women were at work.
Wasn't that a lively week, though! Sigrid's mother was an excellent housekeeper, but she never had all the clothes and linen of the family washed but three times a year! Such scores and scores of garments went into that copper kettle—enough to clothe a whole village. Even if her family had been quite poor, Sigrid would still have had many more dresses and aprons than her American cousin.
By the time the oxen were harnessed to a long, low wagon with latticed sides, Sigrid and Anders were ready to climb in and ride to thelake with the old women and the tubs of clothes which had boiled in the kettle.
As soon as they arrived at a clean, sandy beach near the wharf, the children hopped out of the wagon.
"Let's sit in the rowboat at the end of the wharf," said Anders. "Then we can play we are pirates and watch the women on the shore."
The washerwomen took off their shoes and stockings, pinned up their skirts, and waded into the water. Then there was such a splashing and rinsing of clothes, and bobbing of kerchiefed heads, and swinging of long arms!
"They are bad children. We must beat them very hard," one wrinkled old woman explained to Anders. She had carried her pile of dripping clothes from the water's edge to a big stone, where she pounded them with a flat wooden beater. "But they will be as white as a lily when I am done."
Later all the garden bushes were spread with garments. You needed only to half-close your eyes to fancy a summer snow-squall had whitened the green grass over a large area.
"Everything in the house will be fresh and sweet for Midsummer's Day," sighed Mrs. Lund, when the last washerwoman had returned to the country district where she lived.
MIDSUMMER'S EVE
"Itlooks more like the mast of one of the big ships in the harbour than anything else," said Erik. He and his father were standing beside the huge May-pole which lay flat on the green grass in grandmother's front lawn. Near by several men were hammering away on a large wooden platform, in the centre of which the pole was to be hoisted.
"Yes, my son, I have often thought so. This pole is not more than fifty feet high. I have seen them twice as tall. But if we are going to cover all these cross-bars with birch boughs and wreaths, we must hitch up old Maja and drive into the woods soon."
"Indeed, you must," said Mrs. Lund, asshe hurried across the lawn with a huge wreath of daisies over her arm and a basket of nodding bluebells. "You will find us under that clump of beeches, making our wreaths, when you return. Oh! there is plenty for every one to do before the pole is trimmed for to-night."
"Mother, you do make wreaths so fast," said Sigrid. She was sitting in the midst of a group of friends and relatives, who had gathered at grandmother's to celebrate Midsummer's Eve and the day following. As she talked, she sorted daisies, or "priests'-ruffs," as she called them, into bunches for her mother.
"Just hand me a clump of those white daisies, so I can tie their long stems to this rope, and you will soon see how I do it," said Mrs. Lund.
"To-night will be the longest of the whole year," said Miss Eklund, while her fingers plaited birch leaves. "How I love these longdays of sunshine! Why, last night I read in my room without a lamp till almost eleven o'clock!"
"Please tell Karin and me about how you made pancakes on Midsummer's Eve when you were a little girl, Miss Eklund," begged Sigrid, who, with her cousin, was sitting near the governess.
"Oh! the young girls out in the country where I used to live will have a merry time of it to-night. I wonder if they still make pancakes. I was about sixteen years old the night I tried it with two other girls, for the charm would not work unless there were three. Together we took the bowl from the cupboard, beat the eggs, and added the flour. All three of us stirred it at once and threw in the salt at the same time. Of course, we got in too much salt. Not one of us must speak or laugh the whole time. That was the hardest of all. Dear me, I hadn't thoughtof that night for years." Miss Eklund delayed her tale to laugh as heartily as if she was making up for lost time.
"After we had poured out the batter and cooked it, each of us ate a third of the very salt cake. But we couldn't drink before we went to bed. During our dreams, the older girls told us that a young man would appear to each of us and offer us a glass of water."
Karin interrupted the story by exclaiming, "What is that coming down the road? I believe it is the boys with our green boughs. Old Maja doesn't look as though he liked those branches thrust behind his ears. Why, the wagon is all one bower of birch-trees!"
As the wagon drove into the yard, Erik spied his newly-arrived cousin and sung out:
"There once was little Karin,Who at the royal hallAmong the handmaids servingThe fairest was of all."Then spoke the King, 'Fair Karin,Wilt thou my sweetheart be?My horse and golden saddleI'll straightway give to thee.'"
The children all laughed merrily at the new turn to the familiar old song.
"How pretty we shall make the May-pole!" exclaimed Sigrid.
She called it a "May-pole," though it was the middle of June. The Swedish word for "May" means green leaf. And a "green-leaf pole" it certainly was when they had draped the cross-bars with leaves and garlands and added scores of the yellow and blue flags of Sweden.
Toward the close of the afternoon, the pole in its gala-dress was swung into place by means of huge ropes. Then a great shout went up from the little crowd of relatives and working people who lived on the grounds.
"Strike up a dance, Per," cried Major Lundto the fiddler. In a twinkling, the children had caught hold of hands and were dancing around the pole. Old and young, servants and all, shared in the merrymaking.
couples dancing around may-pole while man plays fiddle"IN A TWINKLING, THE CHILDREN . . . WERE DANCING AROUND THE POLE"
"IN A TWINKLING, THE CHILDREN . . . WERE DANCING AROUND THE POLE"
As Sigrid ran about in a gay costume, you would scarcely have recognized her. Instead of her plain city clothes, she wore a pretty peasant dress. Many fashionable Swedish mammas let their children wear this dress on holidays in the country. Over her dark blue woolen skirt, Sigrid wore a bright apron, striped in red, blue, yellow, black, and white. The waist was white, with a red silk bodice and shoulder-straps. An embroidered kerchief was folded quaintly about her throat. On her yellow braids rested a tall pointed blue cap, with red pipings and tassels in back. Several other little girls at the dance wore similar dresses.
"Erik," said Sigrid, quite late in the evening, as the fiddler stopped to tune up forthe next dance, "several times to-night I have seen some one over by the well-sweep. I thought perhaps he was one of the farmers' children. But he hides there as though he was afraid to come out."
"Suppose we go over and speak to him," said Erik.
When they reached the well-sweep, no one was there.
"I know that I saw him only a minute ago. There, I think he is behind that elm-tree. You run this side and I will go the other," said Sigrid.
All escape was cut off this time, and Erik dragged the cowering child from his hiding-place.
"If he isn't a chimney-sweep!" exclaimed Erik when he saw the boy away from the shadow of the tree.
"You needn't be afraid of us, little boy," said Sigrid, kindly. "You can't help it becauseyou have to go down into the chimneys and your face is always black with soot. Don't you want something to eat?"
The sooty youngster grinned and shifted his coil of rope from one shoulder to the other. He managed to murmur, "Thank you." Sigrid ran ahead to the kitchen to get some salt herring, rye bread, and coffee. The little sweep left his long broom and rope on the grass, and began to eat greedily.
"Aren't you ever afraid to go down inside of a pitch-black chimney?" asked Sigrid. Her interest in the dances had waned for a few minutes, for she had never talked with one of these forlorn little creatures before.
The boy shook his head in reply. He was too busy with his salt herring to waste any words.
"I am going to ask mother if she will let him stay here all night," said Sigrid. She did not know that this outcast, who was soshy with her, could take very good care of himself. All summer, he wandered through the country, cleaning chimneys. At night, he slept in strange barns or haymows and was very happy and comfortable.
Mrs. Lund talked to the lad and told him that he could spend the night in one of the outhouses. The next day was a holiday and no one would want a chimney swept.
Sigrid's tender heart was at ease again, and she returned to the dancers. The older people stayed up far into the bright night, but the children soon went to bed. From her chamber window, Sigrid could see the huge bonfires on the hillsides far away. The witches are abroad on Midsummer's Eve, and these fires drive them away.
Every one goes to church on Midsummer's Day, which is also called St. John's Day. So the next morning, the Lund family drove several miles to a little country church. Beforethey started, Sigrid went to find the sweep. But the little wanderer had started on his travels again.
"Larsson says all the school-children will sing carols, this morning," said Mrs. Lund. "I am sure we shall have a beautiful service."
As they drove along the road, they met many country people on their way to church. The women all carried their hymn-books wrapped neatly in a silk handkerchief.
"Why do the men all sit on one side and the women on the other?" whispered Anders. His family sat in a little gallery of the church. Down below, the altar and the square box pews with doors were banked with lilacs.
"Hush, dear," replied his mother. "You must remember the country people are used to it, so it is not strange to them."
The ride home and the noonday meal seemed endless. As soon as ever they had thanked their parents for their food, the childrenwere out-of-doors again. A big wagon, trimmed with birches and filled with hay, was ready at the door. Midsummer's Day without a picnic in the woods is almost as bad as Christmas without presents.
"Don't forget the nets for the crayfish, Erik," said Major Lund, who was stowing away luncheon baskets in the wagon.
"They are in all right, father. The big kettle in which to boil them and the coffee-pot are under the seat," said Erik.
Even a plain every-day picnic, where you eat sandwiches and cakes under a tree, is fun. But on this picnic, the children were going to help catch crayfish, which look like small lobsters. Then they were planning to cook them over a camp-fire.
The last child nestled into the hay and they were off.
A VISIT TO SKANSEN
"I wantto see the Lapps and the reindeer. Aren't we almost there?" said Anders to his mother.
"Yes, little son, we are nearly at the top of the hill," replied Mrs. Lund.
The Lund family were on their way to Skansen, a famous park near Stockholm. Soon the car stopped and every one scrambled out.
"We are so high up that we can see the harbour," said Erik, as he trudged along beside his sister with one of the luncheon baskets hung over his arm. At their feet lay the city of islands with its ribbon-like canals of blue. Away on the horizon, the water of the bay sparkled in the sun, like a huge amethyst.The children halted a minute to look back on the fair scene.
"Out there the Vikings sailed away to new lands," said Erik, who was never weary of dreaming about the heroes of the old sagas.
"Hurry up, children," called Mrs. Lund. "We have too much before us to see, to spend time looking back."
Through the entrance gate, they passed into a grove of pines and birches, with winding roads. Among the trees were many wild animals in pens, and queer houses and buildings, such as the children had never seen in the city or at grandmother's. Every few steps, they met a soldier with a helmet and shield, or a brightly dressed peasant. You would think you had come to a foreign country, and so did Sigrid.
As they turned a bend in the road, they saw a low cottage of hewn timber. It was painted red and had a hood over the door.In the yard was a wagon that might have been made by sawing a huge wooden cask from top to bottom, and then placing one half on wheels.
"I never saw such a funny cart," said Anders.
"It is odd," replied his father. "A long time ago, people used to ride in a wagon like that. Suppose we go over and look at that house."
"You don't know the people who live there, do you, father?" enquired Sigrid.
"No, my daughter," he replied. "But all these people are accustomed to visitors. You see, a few years ago, there lived a wise man named Artur Hazelius, who loved his country very dearly. He travelled from the fjelds and glaciers where the Lapps live to the fertile fields of Skäne, in the south.
"Something troubled him very much. He cared a great deal for the queer oldhomes which he saw in out-of-the-way villages. No one makes such houses to-day. He knew they would soon be destroyed. Then he was sorry that only a few peasants still wear their old gay costumes.
"So he said to himself, 'I will go to the king and ask him to give me a large park. There I will fetch some of these houses. Our children will not have to read in books about the way their great-grandfathers lived. They shall visit the very houses they lived in.'"
"How could he bring a whole house here?" asked Erik.
"That was hard sometimes," Major Lund replied. "Often they pulled down a house, brought the timber here, and set it up as it was before. Then he had people come here and wear the same clothes and live in the same way they did in the olden times. Nowhere in the world is there a park like this."
"See that little girl with a kerchief over her head, peeping at us from the window," said Anders.
A moment later, a smiling peasant woman came to the door. She made a curtsey and invited them to enter.
"Why, I can scarcely see at all," said Sigrid.
The big living-room was lighted by the tiniest little window. The two sleeping-rooms were also as dark as your pocket, and very small. Hemlock tips were strewn over the clean floor. From the ceiling hung a pole of flat rye bread.
"You dear baby!" exclaimed Sigrid's mother, for she had discovered a small canvas hammock hung in a dark corner. The baby was asleep in its hanging nest.
"She is a very good child and lies there all day by herself," said the baby's mother.
"They never can move their beds at all," said Sigrid, who was making a tour about theroom. She peered curiously between some striped hand-woven curtains which hung in front of a wooden bed, built into the house. Similar beds lined the walls.
"Many of the peasants use that kind of bed," said Major Lund. "Once, when I was in Lapland, I slept in a big drawer."
"Was that the time that you were snowed in and you climbed out through the chimney to dig a path?" asked Erik.
"Yes, that was the same time," said his father.
"I should think you would have smothered in the drawer," said Anders, who had been very quiet.
"There was no danger of that," replied Major Lund. "All around the rooms were wooden sofas. At night, you pulled out a big drawer beneath the seat. The drawer was filled with hay, and over that you spread blankets."
Mrs. Lund talked to the peasant womanwhile the children continued to look about. A huge fireplace filled one corner of the room. On a low brick platform that came out into the room, the fire was built.
Across another corner a rope was stretched. Over it hung dresses and coats.
"What do they do that for?" whispered Sigrid to her mother.
"They haven't any closet for their dresses except that," replied Mrs. Lund.
For a moment or two, after they came out of the gloomy interior, the sun was dazzling. They ate dinner under some pine-trees, and then kept on through the woods.
"We haven't time to visit all these houses. But you would like to see the hut half-buried in the ground. The herdsmen live in such places in summer while they are tending their cattle. And we won't forget the Lapps, Anders," said the father, gently tweaking his son's ear.
"Who are all those people in that carriage?" asked Mrs. Lund.
"I had almost forgotten that this is Bellman's day. Those people live here. They always dress in the costume of the time of our beloved poet on his anniversary day."
An old carryall drove slowly past. Within were several men dressed in black velvet coats and knee-breeches, white wigs, and three-cornered hats.
"Later in the day, we will walk over to Bellman's statue, where I am sure we shall find many people."
"I see the reindeer," exclaimed Anders. "There they are on those high rocks."
Before them stretched the group of Laplander tents of birch poles covered with canvas.
"That dark-skinned girl playing with the dog looks about my age. I wonder what she does with the wooden spoon which hangs from her belt," said Sigrid.
"Go and ask her, if you like," said Mrs. Lund. "I don't believe that she will understand you. That tent has the flap turned back. Do you see that flat stone in the centre? Her dinner is cooked in a big kettle on that stone. When the meal is ready, she will dip her ladle into the kettle for her share."
"Over yonder is the summer-house of our famous seer, Swedenborg. It used to be in his garden in Stockholm, and there he worked and wrote," said Major Lund, nodding in the direction of a neat pavilion.
"We have just time before the dances to see the people who are celebrating Bellman's day," said Mrs. Lund.
Wreaths and flowers decked the bronze bust of the poet. At the foot of the pedestal a man was reciting, and the crowd was very quiet.
"How he loved to come here and lie out in the warm sun and sing those same songs thatman is reciting!" said Major Lund. They lingered only a few minutes.
"This is what I like," said Sigrid, with an air of great content. She and her brothers had hurried ahead of their parents. They sat watching some lively dancing on a large platform.
"They have begun 'Weaving Homespun,'" said Erik, as the fiddler and accordion player struck up a quaint air.
The peasants faced each other in two lines. Then the men and maidens wove in and out in the figures of the dance. "Like weaving on an old loom," Erik explained to Sigrid.
"I wish I could have a red dress and a stiff white cap with pointed ears," said Sigrid, who could not keep her eyes away from one of the dancers.
"The crown princess also admires that dress," said Mrs. Lund. "She requires all her maids of honour to wear it, in the forenoon, atTullgarn. I am sure it is so pretty, I don't believe they mind at all."
"No two of those girls are dressed alike," continued Sigrid, who was still interested in costumes.
"That is because each maid wears the peasant dress of one of the provinces of Sweden, and there are many provinces. One of those Dalecarlian girls has a dress like the one you wore on Midsummer's Eve. In that part of the country, the girls wear their bright aprons and kerchiefs more than anywhere else in Sweden."
"Why, where is Anders?" asked Major Lund. He had been chatting with an old friend and had just returned to his family.
Sure enough, the lad had disappeared. The crowd had pressed in close about the platform. Every one was so pleased with these old folk-dances, that they had forgotten the child.
"Do you suppose he has gone back to lookat the seals or the polar bears?" asked Erik.
It was sometime before Major Lund returned from his hunt. But Anders was with him.
"Where do you think I found the rogue?" asked Major Lund. "He was drinking raspberry juice with a nice old lady who thought he was lost. Do you know what happens to little boys who run away?"
Major Lund looked very stern. But the mother was so glad to find the child that I don't believe anything did happen.
THROUGH THE GÖTA CANAL
Thegong clanged. The big steamer churned the water into foamy suds as it left the wharf at Stockholm. Sigrid and her father and mother waved their handkerchiefs to the friends on shore as long as they could see them.
"Let us find seats in the bow of the boat, where we shall have a good view of the canal," said Mrs. Lund.
"I never was in such a large boat before. It is just like a house," cried Sigrid, who was much excited.
"Wait till you see the small state-room with the red plush sofas that turn down at night for a bed," said Major Lund. "We must leaveall these posies there before we come on deck again."
All three of them had their arms full of flowers which their friends had brought them.
"How long will it take us to get to Aunt Frederika's house, father?"
"Nearly three days. You will enjoy the trip, Sigrid. We are to cross the whole of Sweden. But we shall see beautiful country and many old castles before we reach Göteborg. You won't have to stay on the steamer all the time, for we shall often get off at the locks and wander through old towns."
"Wherever shall we sleep?" Mrs. Lund asked with a smile. The great mass of flowers almost filled the tiniest room you ever saw. They finally had to throw some of them away when they went to bed.
"I wish Erik and Anders could have come too," said Mrs. Lund when they were on deckagain. She almost never took a journey without her whole family.
"Grandmother would be very lonely if we were all gone. Our two weeks' trip will soon be over," replied her husband.
"Father," said Sigrid, a few hours later, "sometimes the canal is not much wider than the boat. Why, it seems just as if we were riding on top of the land instead of the water."
"Yes, I know what you mean." Major Lund was amused at the child's distress of mind. "We shall go through several places in the canal, so narrow that trees on opposite banks arch over the boat. But when we reach the big lakes you will think we are at sea. Sometimes they are so broad, you cannot see the shore."
"I thought it was the Göta Canal all the way," said Sigrid.
"So it is," replied her father. "But that islike a family name for wide rivers, big lakes, and little short canals that all join hands to make a waterway across the country."
Long before bedtime, Sigrid felt quite at home in her new quarters. After supper, she again sat on deck with her parents.
Suddenly, they heard a sharp cry. "Oh, Isabella, you will drown! Can't you get her, father? What shall I do! Oh! Oh!"
Several people hastened to the side of the boat where the cry rose. A pretty child was weeping bitterly, while her father was trying to comfort her.
"She has only lost her doll in the water, madam," explained the gentleman to Mrs. Lund, who was eager to help. He spoke in English.
"What did he say?" asked Sigrid, who was too far off to hear.
"She dropped her doll overboard while she was waving her hand to some children on theshore. Poor child! she is all alone with her father."
"Is she an English girl?" asked Sigrid.
"I think she is an American. Perhaps she would like some of your twisted ring cakes, when she stops crying."
When the child's sobs finally ceased, Mrs. Lund said to her kindly:
"Won't you come and sit beside my little daughter? She wants to give you some of her cakes."
The two children glanced at each other shyly.
"May I, father?" asked the American child.
"Certainly, Anna. You are very kind to amuse her," said the stranger politely to Mrs. Lund.
Sigrid could speak in English as well as Swedish, which seemed to surprise Anna.
"What nice sweet pretzels!" said Anna as she nibbled at one of the cakes.
"Mother bought them of a peasant girl who came on board at that funny place where the banks were so high we couldn't see the town," explained Sigrid.
"Did you bring your doll with you?" asked Anna, who still mourned the lost Isabella.
"Oh, yes!" said Sigrid, "and a whole trunk of clothes. Wait a moment and I will get her."
She returned with a pretty yellow box on which red and blue flowers were painted. Grandmother had a large chest at home exactly like this toy.
"Oh! you have a peasant doll. How I wish I had one like that! Mother bought Isabella for me in Paris," said Anna.
During the next two days of the trip, the little girls were often together.
"What a giant stairway! I don't see how the steamer can go up to the top," Sigridexclaimed, the next morning. They had reached the town of Berg, and as she looked at the canal before her, she saw seventeen locks, which mounted to the sky.