Ditte glanced at her mother, who stood with her back to her. Then she nodded her head eagerly.
Lars Peter drank half of his coffee, put some more sugar in the cup, and handed it to the child.
Sörine was dressing by the fireplace. "Now keep quiet," said she, "while I tell you what to do. There's flour and milk for you to make pancakes for dinner; but don't dare to put an egg in."
"Good Lord, what's an egg or two," Lars Peter tried to say.
"You leave the housekeeping to me," answered Sörine, "and you'd better get up at once before we leave, and begin work."
"What's the good of that?" said Lars Peter again. "Leave the children in bed till it's daylight. I've fed the animals, and it's no good wasting oil."
This last appealed to Sörine. "Very well, then, but be careful with the fire—and don't use too much sugar."
Then they drove away. Lars Peter was going to the shore to fetch fish as usual, but would first drive Sörine into town, where she would dispose of the month's collection of butter and eggs, and buy in what could not be got from the grocer in the hamlet. Ditte listened to the cart until she dropped asleep again.
When it was daylight, she got up and lit the fire again. The others wanted to get up too, but by promising them coffee instead of their usual porridge and milk she kept them in bed until she had tidied up the room. They got permission to crawl over to their parents' bed, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves there, while Ditte put wet sand on the floor, and swept it. Kristian, who was now five years old, told stories in a deep voice of a dreadful cat that went about the fields eating up all the moo-cows; the two little ones lay across him, their eyes fixed on his lips, and breathless with excitement. They could see it quite plainly—the pussy-cat, the moo-cow and everything—and little Povl, out of sheer eagerness to hurry up the events, put his fat little hand right down Kristian's throat. Ditte went about her duties smiling in her old-fashioned way at their childish talk. She looked very mysterious as she gave them their coffee; and when the time came for them to be dressed, the surprise came out. "Oh, we're going to have our best clothes on—hip, hip, hooray!" shouted Kristian, beginning to jump up and down on the bed. Ditte smacked him, he was spoiling the bedclothes!
"If you'll be really good and not tell any one, I'll take you out for a drive," said Ditte, dressing them in their best clothes. These were of many colors, their mother having made them from odd scraps of material, taken from the rag and bone man's cart.