Greta was up earlier than ever the next morning. Maybe the Nisser had decided not to punish her after all. Maybe the mysterious little creatures would bring her kittens back. So Greta dashed out to the barn to look. But the bed of straw was still empty.
All day long there was sadness in her heart. The other children at school were very gay, for this was the last day of school. There was much singing and there were many games. There was more singing and games and laughter than there were lessons. But Greta was not gay. She kept thinking of her lost kittens, and every now and then there was the awful fear that she might lose Chouse, too.
She hurried home from school even faster than the day before. Chouse had to run, run, run to keep up with her bicycle. He barked and barked, as if he wanted to say, "Greta, don't go so fast." But Greta kept right on going. Nothing could stop her. She rode right up to the barn door and ran inside. Maybe the kittens had come back. But no, the bed of straw was empty.
Then Greta remembered that she had not looked in the garden. Maybe the kittens were out there playing, and the Nisser hadn't taken them at all. Joyously she ran across the courtyard, with Chouse close at her heels. Chouse thought his little mistress was going to play with him again, as she used to do, so he ran on ahead of her and hid under a peony bush. He lay there without making a sound, waiting for Greta to find him. But Greta paid no attention to the little wire-haired terrier.
She walked slowly up and down the garden paths, looking carefully to the right and left. Then she began to look under the rose bushes and the peony bushes and the big clumps of iris. After a while Chouse came out from his hiding place and followed his young mistress all around the garden. It was no use trying to get her to play with him.
It took a long time for Greta to search the entire garden. Every home in Denmark has a flower garden, and this was one of the largest and prettiest for miles around. Greta looked under every inch of the thick hedge that surrounded the garden. She looked all through the bed of marigolds and the bed of poppies and the bed of tulips. By this time Chouse seemed to know that she was searching for something and he tried to help her. He began poking into all the flower beds himself. While they were in the midst of their search, old Peter, the gardener, came along and stopped to watch them.
"Chouse, you naughty dog, get out of the flower beds!" Old Peter was angry. He had worked very hard all spring to make the garden beautiful. For many hours he had raked and hoed and watered the flower beds. And now, in ten minutes, this naughty Chouse had undone all his work.
"Oh, Peter, I've lost my kittens and Chouse is helping me look for them. Please don't scold him." If Peter complained about Chouse, then her pet surely would be sent away, thought Greta.