HOLIDAY FROLICS
"Father's coming, father's coming!" cried Mari as she stood looking down the snow-covered valley.
She rushed into the house and put on her skis, then skimmed across the fields with long strides.
"Everything is ready," she told her father as soon as she reached him. "And now we shall have a lovely Christmas because you have come."
Yes, everything was ready for the greatest day of the year. Even the birds were not forgotten, for a fresh sheaf of wheat had been fastened on the pole where the magpie had hidden the silver brooch. Ole had made a new collar for the dog, Kyle; Henrik had shot enough wild game for the Christmas dinner; Mari and Greta had helped their mother in making some wonderful cakes.
There was nothing for the tired father to do except to sit in the chimney-corner and frolic with his children. It was a jolly time, for no one was expected to be quiet now, and all were allowed to do as they pleased.
Christmas comes but once a year, and the children realized it fully.
They played games and told stories; they danced and sang to the music of Henrik's violin. There was no spinning, or even crocheting, for the girls, while the boys did only what farm work was needed to keep the horses and cattle comfortable.
On Christmas Day a party of the villagers came to the farm to share in the games and feasting. Even the magpie, mischievous little fellow, seemed to enjoy the fun. He flew from one to the others of the party and, lighting on the shoulders of the young girls suddenly, would startle them and make every one else laugh.
The baby, bless his heart, had the best time of all. He was not left to hang in his cradle for a single moment. Everybody wished to hold him, and he was passed from one to another of the company, where he enjoyed himself fingering the shining silver ornaments of his friends.