Your cousin
Greta."
She addressed the envelope, writing "Copenhagen" in very large letters. Just as she was going out of the door, her mother called to her.
"When you are in the village, Greta, please stop at the bakery and bring back some bread. I told Marie to bake an extra loaf today, but she forgot it. And we have company coming tonight."
"All right, Mother. I won't forget."
As Greta rode into the village she thought of all the things that she and Anna could do that summer. She didn't have to pay much attention to cars coming down the gravel road, for there were many more bicycles than automobiles. Chouse ran right along beside her bicycle, but once in a while, when he saw a rabbit, he would suddenly dart away into the field. In a short time he would come tearing back and soon catch up with Greta.
The fields were especially beautiful right now. The hay was yellow and almost ready to cut. Greta could see for several miles in every direction, for the land was flat and there were not many trees. In this part of Denmark the trees do not grow very large because of the wind that blows all the time, summer and winter. This wind from the North Sea never seems to stop blowing, and it blows so hard that the trees all lean to one side, away from the wind. There are scarcely any branches on the side that the wind comes from.
The farmers are thankful for this wind from the sea, because it keeps their windmills turning. And from the windmills they get electric power to light their houses.
Greta mailed her letter and started back home. She didn't stop to visit with any of her friends in the village, because she was eager to get home and look for her kittens again. She hadn't given up the hope of finding them, though she really didn't know where to look. When more than halfway home, she suddenly remembered the loaf of bread.
"Come, Chouse. We must go back to the village." Chouse had run to the side of the road, looking for rabbits again.