“‘O yes,’ said Flocken—with a little smile—‘but I wouldn’t kill the deer for that.’
“‘I would,’ said Kline. ‘And it would help mother, too.’
“‘I should like to help mother, if I could,’ said Sneeflocken, putting her little thin hands together. ‘But Jesus will—I have asked him.’
“‘Why you help us all,’ said Kline; ‘just as the birds do when they sing, or the sun when it shines.’
“‘Maybe I shall by and by,’ said the child, smiling again in that grave, quiet way.
“‘Yes, by and by,—when you grow up to be a strong woman,’ said Kline.
“‘No, Kline,’ said Sneeflocken stroking his face—‘No, dear Kline—but by and by when I go to heaven. Maybe God will let me help take care of her then, and of you too, Kline. But you will not know that it is your little Sneeflocken.’
“And Kline could only sit and hold her in his arms, and say nothing.
“The snow fell all that night, and the winter set in early; and the waterfall scattered icicles upon every branch and rock in its way, and then built for itself an ice trough through which it poured down as noisily as ever. Then the sun never shewed his face but for a few minutes, and the rest of the day was twilight. And at night the moon shone splendidly, and the Northern Lights showed peaks of fire in the heavens,—or sometimes there were only the stars, burning clear in the high lift, and twinkling down in the dark fiord between the shadows of the fir trees. Now and then a bear would come out, and prowl about the little dwelling,—or a wolf gave a concert with the waterfall; but cows and pigs were safe shut up; and Foss, the little dog, shewed so much disapprobation at the concert, that often the wolves did not have one for nights together. Laaft, the father of Kline, got home from Lofoden with his stock of dried fish; and Kline himself had shot his reindeer; and both meat and fish were safely stowed in the alpebod. Didn’t the wolves know that! and didn’t their mouths water sometimes at night till they were fringed with icicles! But they never tried to break in, for the alpebod was strong; and little Foss knew as well as the wolves what good things were there; and scolded terribly if every body and every thing did not keep at a respectful distance. And besides all that, the wolves were afraid of the light that always shone from one room of the little cottage.