"It is a carnival of light," said Gerda, in a tone of awe. She had often seen the northern lights, but never any so brilliant as these.
Everyone seemed charged with the electricity, and little Karen said softly, "I never felt so strange before. The lights go up and down my back to the tip of my toes."
"It is the elves of light dancing round the room," said Birger with a laugh.
"No," said Gerda, "it is the Tomtar playing with the electric wires."
Then, as they all stood watching the wonderful display in the heavens, the door opened and Lieutenant Ekman came into the room. "Here is a letter for Karen from her mother," he said; "I have had it in my pocket all day."
"Oh, let me see it," said Karen, and she turned and ran across the room. Yes, ran,—with her crutch standing beside the chair at the window, and her two feet pattering firmly on the floor.
"Look at Karen," cried Gerda. "She has forgotten her crutch!"
Karen held her mother's letter in her hand, and her two eyes were shining
like stars. "I feel as if I should never need my crutch again," she said.
Then she turned to Fru Ekman and asked breathlessly, "Do you believe that
I will?"
"I am sure that you won't," replied Fru Ekman, stooping to kiss the happy child. "I have noticed for a long time that your back was growing straighter and stronger, and you were walking more easily."
Gerda clapped her hands and ran to throw her arms around her friend. "Oh, Karen," she exclaimed, "this is the best birthday gift of all! The Tomtar sent it on the electric wires."