CHAPTER III.
THE CHRISTENING
"O mother, I have something to tell you. I have just been down to the village, and I heard there that neighbour Hans's wife has a new baby. It is a boy. Every one says he is a fine little fellow," said Mari, one beautiful afternoon.
"Dear me! dear me! that is fine news, truly," said her mother. "I must make her a dish of my best porridge and take it to her in the morning."
"Did everybody remember you when I was born, mother?"
"Yes, dear, the people of the village seemed to vie with each other in preparing a dish of flödegrod. It did taste so good! It was hard to tell whose was the best. You must learn how to make this cream porridge now, Mari; you are quite old enough. You will never be thought a good housekeeper if you cannot make smooth flödegrod."
"The baby is to be christened next week. Everybody will be there, of course, mother."
The farm was only half a mile from a little fishing village on the shore of a deep bay. Such a long, narrow bay is called a fiord. There are many fiords in Norway.
There were only about a dozen cottages in the village, but in their midst was a tiny little church and a small building used as the schoolhouse. But school was not kept there all the year round. Half of the time the master taught in this place, and the rest of the year he spent in another little village a few miles up the coast. Neither of them was large enough to pay for a teacher the whole year round. The children, however, were glad to work hard while he was among them. They loved their teacher and their school, and they learned quickly.