"Hans! Hans!" called a girl's voice just then.
"I don't see her, but I know that's Bertha. She came over to the village with me this afternoon. One of her friends has a coffee-party and she invited us to it. So, good-bye."
"Good-bye, my lad. Come and see me again. Perhaps I can manage sometime to take you with me on a trip down the river."
"Thank you ever so much."
Hans hurried away, and was soon entering the house of a little friend who was celebrating her birthday with a coffee-party.
There were several other children there. They were all dressed in their best clothes and looked very neat and nice. The boys wore long trousers and straight jackets. They looked like little old men. The girls had bright-coloured skirts and their white waists were fresh and stiff.
Their shoes were coarse and heavy, and made a good deal of noise as the children played the different games. But they were all so plump and rosy, it was good to look at them.
"They are a pretty sight," said one of the neighbours, as she poured out the coffee.
"They deserve to have a good time," said another woman with a kind, motherly face. "They will soon grow up, and then they will have to work hard to get a living."
The coffee and cakes were a great treat to these village children. They did not get such a feast every day in the year. Their mothers made cakes only for festivals and holidays, and coffee was seldom seen on their tables oftener than once a week.