At last it did come, and a golden sun shone over the harvest fields, and she and Rico went up under the fir-trees, where the sparkling lake lay spread out at their feet; and the girl's heart was so overflowing with happiness, that she had to dance about and shout aloud before she seated herself on the moss, on the very edge of the slope. There she could see every thing round about,—the sunny heights and the lake, and, stretched over all, the blue heavens.
Suddenly she called out, "Come now, Rico; we will sing,—sing for ever so long."
So the lad seated himself by Stineli's side, and placed his fiddle in position,—for he had, of course, brought that too,—and began to play, and the children sang,—
"Little lambkins, come down
From the bright, sunny height,"
until they had sung all the verses; but Stineli had not had half enough.
"We will sing more," she said, and went on,—
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"Little lambkins, above On the bright, pleasant hill, The sunlight is sparkling, The winds are not still." |
And then Rico sang the verse and was pleased and said, "Sing some more."
Stineli was quite excited: thought a bit, and looked up, then down, and sang again,—
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"And the lambkins, and the lambkins, And the heavens so blue; And red and white flowers, And the green grasses, too." |