Immediately a number of labourers came rushing up to little Mats. Two of them carried him to the hut where he and Osa were staying. They did all they could to save him, but it was too late.
Thumbietot felt so sorry for poor Osa. He wanted to help and comfort her; but he knew that if he were to go to her now, he would only frighten her—such as he was!
The night after the burial of little Mats, Osa straightway shut herself in her hut.
She sat alone recalling, one after another, things her brother had said and done. There was so much to think about that she did not go straight to bed, but sat up most of the night. The more she thought of her brother the more she realized how hard it would be to live without him. At last she dropped her head on the table and wept.
"What shall I do now that little Mats is gone?" she sobbed.
It was far along toward morning and Osa, spent by the strain of her hard day, finally fell asleep.
She dreamed that little Mats softly opened the door and stepped into the room.
"Osa, you must go and find father," he said.
"How can I when I don't even know where he is?" she replied in her dream.
"Don't worry about that," returned little Mats in his usual, cheery way.
"I'll send some one to help you."