[Viggo and Beate]
Part One
[The Doll under the Briar Rosebush]
There was once a little girl, and her name was Beate. She was only five years old, but a bright and good little girl she was.
On her birthday her father had given her a beautiful straw hat. There were red ribbons around it, I can't tell you how pretty it was. Her mother had given her a pair of yellow shoes and the daintiest white dress. But her old aunt had given her the very best present of all; it was a doll, with a sweet pretty face and dark brown curls. She was a perfect beauty in every respect. There was nothing the matter with her except that the left eyebrow was painted a tiny bit too high up.
"It looks as if she were frowning a little. I wonder if she is not quite pleased?" asked Beate, when she held her in her arms.
"Oh, yes," answered her aunt, "but she doesn't know you yet. It is a habit she has of always lifting her eyebrow a little when she looks closely at anyone. She only wants to find out if you are a good little girl."