CHAPTER VII.
Fru Bjornson, seated on a camp-stool by the side of the entrance gate to her house, was looking anxiously around her. Close by stood Ingold, with one eye tightly screwed up, and an old-fashioned telescope in her hand, trying in vain to adjust the focus.
"What do you see now?" enquired the Bear-mother, leaning forward.
"A great fog with snakes in it!" replied the servant truthfully.
"Why, those are trees, of course!" said Fru Bjornson. "Turn the screw a little more, and it will become as plain as possible."
Ingold twisted her hand several times rapidly, and again applied her eye to the end.
"It doesn't seem like snakes now, does it?" asked the Bear-mother triumphantly.
"Oh, no! It's turned to milk with green splashes in it," said Ingold.
"You don't see anything of my darling children, then?" enquired Fru Bjornson.
"Nothing at all, ma'am," said Ingold. "A telescope may be a wonderful thing for those who haven't any eyes, but really I think I see better without it."
At this moment, through the trees, an extraordinary procession came in sight; which caused the Bear-mother to jump up from her seat with a cry of joy.
Herr Badger, with his cloak thrown over one shoulder, leading Knut and Otto by the hand; and behind them the rest of the pupils in single file—depressed and gloomy, but resigned to whatever Fate might have in store for them.
Fru Bjornson ran forward, and clasped her children in her arms.
It was a happy meeting; and as she thought the Schoolmaster would already have gone through all the scolding that was necessary, she refrained from adding a word more.
"I've got the class together, ma'am," said Herr Badger triumphantly, "and I'm never going to let it go again! The new School system commences from to-morrow!"
All the parents agreed that the children had been sufficiently punished during their wanderings in the forest, and they were therefore allowed to return to their homes, without anything more being said on the subject.
The next morning the scholars assembled at the School-house in excellent time; but most of them unfortunately, having lost their satchels, were obliged to carry their books and luncheon, wrapped up in untidy brown paper parcels—which was certainly very mortifying.
"My dear pupils," commenced Herr Badger, as he entered the room and bowed graciously, "on this auspicious occasion, I wish to call the Arithmetic class for ten minutes only. We will begin, if you please, with 'twice one'—repeating it three times over without a failure!"