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Little Greta of Denmark.
by Bernadine Bailey.
CHAPTER I
A SEARCH BEGINS
Greta opened very sleepy eyes and stretched a long, long stretch. Every single morning, before she got out of bed, she put her arms above her head and stretched as far as she could reach. Greta wanted to grow tall, and she thought that maybe if she pulled her arms 'way up and her feet 'way down, she would grow tall more quickly. Greta had been named after the most famous queen of Denmark, and so she wanted to be tall and graceful, just as that queen had been.
In about two minutes she jumped out of bed and started to dress. If she dressed very fast, she would have time to run out to the barn and see the kittens before breakfast. The kittens were only a week old, and Greta loved them every bit as much as their own mother did. Greta lived on a very large farm, and on the farm was a very large barn. In fact, the barn was about three times as large as the house Greta lived in. The barn was built of red brick and it formed three sides of a square. The house itself made the other side of the square. It was also built of brick, but it was painted white.
The horses were kept in one part of the barn, the cows in another part, and the pigs in still another part. Then there was one large section where the hay was kept. When the kittens were born, Greta made a nice soft bed of straw for them in the farthest corner of the barn, where the pigs and cows and horses could not possibly reach them. Every morning she ran out to see the kittens to be sure that they were all right. She picked up each of the four soft, furry little animals and gave it a special hug before she went off to school. And when she came home from school she played with the kittens until it was time for dinner.
Of course Chouse didn't like this one little bit. Chouse was the wire-haired terrier, and he had always been Greta's special pet. In the summer he played with her every minute of the day. But things were very different now, since the kittens had come. Greta didn't pay much attention to Chouse. The kittens took every minute of her time. Just the same, Chouse was waiting for her this morning outside her bedroom door.
Breakfast would be ready in five minutes, so Greta ran quickly, with Chouse barking at her heels. All out of breath, she reached the farthest corner of the barn, where the kittens had their bed of straw.
Then Greta stopped very still. She rubbed her eyes. Surely this was just a bad dream. The soft bed of straw was empty. No one would have taken her kittens, and none of the horses or cows or pigs could reach them.
Where in the world could they be? She began to look all over that end of the barn, poking about the straw that covered the floor. There wasn't a sign of the soft b.a.l.l.s of fur. Two large tears rolled down Greta's face.
Just then she heard her brother Hans calling.
"Greta, where are you? Breakfast is all ready and we are waiting for you."
There was such a big lump in the little girl's throat that she could hardly answer. Finally she said, "Here I am, Hans, but my kittens are gone."
"Gone? What do you mean?" Hans had found her by now and he put his arm around her shoulder. "Don't cry, Greta. We'll find them all right. Come on to breakfast now."
[Ill.u.s.tration: GRETA'S HOME]
"I don't think I can eat anything, Hans. I wish I didn't have to go to school today. I want to look for my kittens."
"I'll help you look for them as soon as we get home from school. Come on, now. Mother and Father are waiting."
So Greta wiped the tears from her face and went into the house with Hans. She sat down at the table, but the lump just wouldn't go out of her throat, and she could hardly swallow.
"Remember, Greta, there are only two more days of school, and then you will have all summer to play with the kittens." Hans tried his best to cheer up his little sister. Hans was fifteen years old, so of course he couldn't possibly be upset over a little thing like the loss of four small kittens.
"Maybe Chouse has hidden your kittens, Greta," suggested her father.
"Day before yesterday I saw him chasing the baby pigs. I punished him for that, but he didn't seem to learn, for yesterday he was chasing the baby chickens and he killed two of them. Now you know we can't have that sort of thing going on. I think we had better send Chouse away to some other farm."
Greta could hardly believe her ears. "You don't really mean that you would send _Chouse_ away?"
"Yes, I mean just that, Greta. We can't have a dog that is destructive.
And if he has hurt your kittens, I don't think you would want to keep him, either."
Greta didn't say a word, but a choking feeling came into her throat.
"Finish your breakfast, Greta, or you will be late for school," reminded her mother.
Greta went to school in the village, a mile away. When the weather was good, she rode her bicycle. But whether she walked or rode, Chouse always went with her to the door of the school. And he was always waiting for her when school was out in the afternoon.
Greta didn't know her lessons very well that day. Her mind was on Chouse and the kittens. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her playmate, and yet, if he had hurt the kittens, maybe he ought to be sent away.
Suddenly she heard the teacher call her name.
"Greta, what was the Union of Kalmar?"
Greta's thoughts were far away from Danish history, and it was hard to bring them back. Everyone in the room was looking at her. Slowly she rose to her feet.
"The Union of Kalmar took place in 1397, when Norway and Sweden came under the rule of Denmark." Gradually it was coming back to her.
"And who was the ruler of Denmark then?" asked the teacher. "You should know that, Greta, better than anyone else in the cla.s.s."
Greta's cheeks flushed a bright pink. How could she have forgotten?
"Queen Margrete brought about the Union of Kalmar," explained Greta.
"That is why she was the greatest queen Denmark has ever had." The other children smiled when Greta said this. They all knew that her name was really Margrete and that she had been named for this famous queen of long ago.
[Ill.u.s.tration: HANS, GRETA, AND THE KITTENS]
Greta thought it was the longest day of her life, but school was finally over. Chouse was waiting for her at the door when she came out of the building. He was such a faithful little playmate, how could she bear to send him away? Well, maybe she wouldn't have to.
She got on her bicycle and rode home just as fast as her legs could pedal. Before she went into the house she looked again in the barn to see if the kittens had, in some wonderful way, come back to their bed of straw. But the bed was still empty.
Hans helped her search every part of the large barn--where the horses were kept, where the cows were kept, where the pigs were kept, and where the hay was kept. They took sticks and poked around in the hay. At last the children decided that the kittens simply were not in the barn at all.
"Let's go look in the chicken house, Greta," suggested Hans.
So they looked all through the chicken house just as carefully as they had looked in the barn. But still there was no sign of the dear little kittens.
"Oh, Hans, what am I going to do?" Greta was crying now as if her heart would break. "Do you think that Chouse has taken them away some place?"
"No, I don't think so, Greta. But maybe one of the Nisser has carried them off."
"Oh, Hans, why would a Nisse take my darling kittens?"
"Well, if you do something to make a Nisse angry at you, he is bound to punish you in some way."
The Nisser are the little fairy folk, or brownies, that live in every home in Denmark. If you are kind to them, they will do something nice for you; but if you hurt them or make them angry, they will punish you.
When Greta went to bed that night she pulled the warm feather cover tightly around her shoulders. She wasn't exactly afraid of the Nisser, but she felt much better when she was all covered up. It was late in June, but the nights were quite cool. Greta was glad that her mother had left the feather cover on her bed. It was a large, thick cover, but it was light and warm, for it was filled with duck feathers.
Soon Greta fell asleep, and all night long she dreamed that a little Nisse was sitting on the foot of her bed, saying, "Greta, do you _really_ want your kittens back again?"
CHAPTER II