What happened to Inger Johanne, as told by herself

Mina and I hauled her up by the arms into the boat.— Page 22.
Published, October, 1919 Copyright, 1919, By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. All Rights Reserved What Happened to Inger Johanne Norwood Press BERWICK & SMITH CO. Norwood, Mass. U. S. A.



I have always heard grown people say that when you meet strangers and there is no one else to introduce you, it is highly proper and polite to introduce yourself. Uncle Karl says that polite people always get on in the world; and as I want dreadfully to do that, I will be polite and tell you who I am.
Everybody in our town knows me; and they call me the Judge's Inger Johanne, because my father is the town judge, you see; and I am thirteen years old. So now you know me.
And just think! I am going to write a book! If you ask, What about? I shall have to say, Nothing in particular, for I haven't a speck more to tell of than other girls thirteen years old have, except that queer things are always happening to me, somehow.
Probably it isn't easy to write a book when you have never done it before, especially when thoughts come galloping through your head as fast as they do through mine. Why, I think of a hundred things, while Peter, the dean's son, is thinking of one and a half! But, easy or not, since I, Inger Johanne, have set my heart on writing a book, write it I will, you may be sure; and now I begin in earnest.

There are four brothers and sisters of us at home, and as I am the eldest, it is natural that I should describe myself first. I am very tall and slim (Mother calls it long and lanky ); and, sad to say, I have very large hands and very large feet. My, what big feet! our horrid old shoemaker always says when he measures me for a pair of new shoes. I feel like punching his tousled head for him as he kneels there taking my measure; for he has said that so often now that I am sick and tired of it.