Our Little Swedish Cousin

by Claire Martha Coburn

The morning sun poured through the window on a pretty picture. Against the heavy dark wooden chair, Sigrid's pale gold hair shone and glistened. It was brushed back very tight and trim, for that is the way Swedish mothers think little girls should wear their hair. The two smooth braids were fastened with a broad blue ribbon. Over her plain dark blue woolen dress, she wore a blue and white checked gingham apron. Except for the aprons which she always wore, Sigrid's dresses were much like those of her little American cousin, only they were very plain and simple. She did not have any rings, or bracelets or necklaces. That was not because she did not love the pretty trinkets. Oh, no. But she must wait till she is older.

The nursery where they were sitting was a large comfortable room with a huge porcelain stove which filled all one corner of the room and reached way to the ceiling. It was made of shiny green tiles, the colour of the walls of the room, and down in the front were two large brass doors, behind which was the fire. This was the only kind of stove that Sigrid had ever seen, so she never thought that it was queer.

I must not forget to tell you about the odd decoration of the nursery windows. After the fashion of all Swedish windows, they swung out from the middle like doors. When the cold winter months came, on went double windows. Though Sigrid was the healthiest child in the world, she never knew what it was like to open a window in winter and let the fresh, pure air blow in, for all around the inside of the frame were neatly pasted narrow strips of paper. You buy these strips at the store with mucilage on the back like a postage stamp. In the little narrow space between the two windows, Sigrid's mother had planted bright green mosses and gray lichens with tiny red cups. A little wooden house and several painted wooden men and women were placed in this miniature park, that kept green all winter. Sigrid liked her window better than any in the house, for all the others had only the mosses and coloured berries.

"Before many months, I believe you will be able to knit a pair of stockings," said Miss Eklund, as she watched her industrious pupil.

"Did you have to make all your stockings when you were a little girl?" said Sigrid.

"Yes, indeed. I was smaller than you are when I began to learn to knit, for my father was a poor farmer and there was a large family of us. The first thing I ever made was a cozy for a coffee-urn, just as you are doing," said Miss Eklund.

"Oh, tell me what you used to do when you were a little girl. Did you learn your lessons at home as Anders and I do?" asked Sigrid.

"It was very different when I was your age, for we lived way out in the country in a big red farmhouse, and our nearest neighbour was two miles away. We lived in the far north, so that when the winter days were only a few hours long, I could not go to school, but I learned a great deal at home. During the long evenings, father and my big brothers could not see to work on the farm or cut timber, so we would all sit together in the living-room with its huge open fire. Father made mother's chairs or a cradle for the baby, or whittled tools for the farm. Brother Olaf carved wooden platters and spoons with wonderful animals and figures. Then in the spring-time he would sell these things in the city markets.

"Mother used to spin and weave our warm clothes, and she taught me how to do all these things, besides sewing and embroidering. Sometimes, father would tell us the same old sagas that you children love to hear."

"Did you have to study catechism, too?" Sigrid's rosy face looked quite solemn at the thought, for every day she had to learn a portion of the catechism, and also Bible history. She loved the stories of David and Saul and Daniel in the lions' den, but the catechism! Oh, that was very, very hard for a little girl!