Part 1 (1/2)
Gerda in Sweden.
by Etta Blaisdell McDonald.
PREFACE
The Swedish people are a hospitable, peace-loving race, kindly and industrious, making the most of their resources. In the south of Sweden are broad farming-lands with well-tilled fields and comfortable red farmhouses; in the central portion are hills and dales, rich in mines of copper and iron which have been famous for hundreds of years. In the cities and towns are factories where thousands of workers are employed, making all sorts of useful articles, from matches to steam-engines. The rivers which flow down to the sea from the western chain of mountains carry millions of logs from the great dark forests. As soon as the ice breaks up in the spring, whole fleets of fis.h.i.+ng boats and lumber vessels sail up and down the coast; sawmills whirr and buzz all day long; the hum of labor is heard all over the land.
In this Northland the winter days are short and cold; but there are the long sunny summer days, when even in the south of Sweden midnight is nothing but a soft twilight, and in the north the sun s.h.i.+nes for a whole month without once dipping below the horizon. This is a glorious time for both young and old. The people live out-of-doors day and night, going to the parks and gardens, rowing and sailing and swimming, singing and dancing on the village green, celebrating the midsummer festival with feasting and merry-making,--for once more the sun rides high in the heavens, and Baldur, the sun G.o.d, has conquered the frost giants.
Just such a happy, useful life is found in this little story. Gerda and her twin brother take a trip northward across the Baltic Sea with their father, who is an inspector of lighthouses. On their way they meet Karen, a little lame girl. After going farther north, into Lapland, where they see the sun s.h.i.+ning at midnight, and spend a day with a family of Lapps and their reindeer, Gerda takes Karen home to Stockholm with her so that the child may have the benefit of the famous Swedish gymnastics for her lameness. Then such good times as the three children have together! They go to the winter carnival to see the skating and skiing; they celebrate Yule-tide with all the good old Swedish customs; and there is a birthday party for the twins, when Karen also receives a gift,--the very best gift of all.
GERDA IN SWEDEN
CHAPTER I
GERDA AND BIRGER
If any one had stopped to think of it, the ticking of the tall clock that stood against the wall sounded like ”Ger-da! Ger-da!”
But no one did stop to think of it. Everyone was far too busy to think about the clock and what it was saying, for over in the corner beside the tall stove stood a wooden cradle, and in the cradle were two tiny babies.
There they lay, side by side, in the same blue-painted cradle that had rocked the Ekman babies for over two hundred years; and one looked so exactly like the other that even dear Grandmother Ekman could not tell them apart.
But the mother, who rocked them so gently and watched them so tenderly, touched one soft cheek and then another, saying proudly, ”This is our son, and this is our daughter,” even when both pairs of blue eyes were tightly closed, and both little chins were tucked under the warm blanket.
There is always great rejoicing over the coming of new babies in any family; but there was twice as much rejoicing as usual over these babies, and that was because they were twins.
Little Ebba Jorn and her brother Nils came with their mother, from the farm across the lake, to see the blue-eyed babies in the worn blue cradle; and after them came all the other neighbors, so that there was always some one in the big chair beside the cradle, gazing admiringly at the twins.
It was in March that they were born,--bleak March, when snow covered the ground and the wind whistled down the broad chimney; when the days were cold and the nights colder; when the frost giants drove their horses, the fleet frost-winds, through the valleys, and cast their spell over lakes and rivers.
April came, and then May. The sun G.o.d drove the frost giants back into their dark caves, the trees shook out their tender, green leaves, and flowers blossomed in the meadows. But still the tall clock ticked away the days, and still they questioned, ”What shall we name the babies?”
”Karen is a pretty name,” suggested little Ebba Jorn, who had come again to see the twins, this time with a gift of two tiny knitted caps.
”My father's name is Oscar,” said Nils. ”That is a good name for a boy.”
”It is always hard to find just the right name for a new baby,” said Grandmother Ekman.
”And the task is twice as hard when there are two babies,” added the proud father, laying his hand gently upon one small round head.
”Let us name the boy 'Birger' for your father,” suggested his wife, kneeling beside the cradle; ”and call the girl 'Anna' for your mother.”
But Grandmother Ekman shook her head. ”No, no!” she said decidedly. ”Call the boy 'Birger' if you will; but 'Anna' is not the right name for the girl.”
Anders Ekman took his hand from the baby's head to put it upon his wife's shoulder. ”Here in Dalarne we have always liked your own name, Kerstin,”
he said with a smile.