"YOU MUST MARCH AGAINST HIM"
"And if you don't watch out, you'll drop that platter," laughed Nils.
Erik put down the platter and the knife. He had snatched them up in his anger and excitement, to use them as a shield and a sword.
Oh, but Greta must never marry anybody but Nils! Ever since childhood, they had been the best of friends, and Erik knew that his big brother loved Greta dearly.
However, he had never told her so, for Fru Hansson was proud and belonged to an old, aristocratic family, while Nils was only a peasant. Still in the fairy tales it was always poor Boots who won the princess in the end, because he was brave and cut off the heads of giants.
At the supper table, Erik, who usually did all the talking, was strangely quiet. He did not ask for second helpings of food—which worried his mother. And when, soon after supper, he stole silently away to bed, she decided that all was not well.
When she came to kiss him good night in his funny little cupboard bed built into the wall, she found him scowling to himself and mumbling.
"What's the matter, Erik?" she asked.
"Then off came his head!" answered Erik to the ceiling.
"Off came—what?" cried the astonished mother.