[KNUT SPELEVINK][1]
Knut was a poor orphan boy who lived with his grandmother at Perlebank in a little hut on the shore.
He had a shirt, a jacket, a pair of trousers and a cap; and what more does one need in summer? In winter he had woolen stockings and birch-bark shoes. That wasn't so little, after all. He was cheerful,—always happy indeed, though always hungry. It is a great art to know how to be happy and hungry at the same time!
His good grandmother was so poor that she seldom had enough food for the boy to eat all he wanted. She spun woolen yarn and sent Knut with it to Mr. Peterman's grand estate, The Ridge, several miles away, where he could always sell the yarn. When Knut returned with the money, Grandmother would buy flour and bake bread. She made it in big flat cakes with a hole in the middle, strung these cakes on a stick and hung the stick high up in the hut where the cakes would dry and harden, and could be kept for a long time. If the yarn brought a good price, she might even buy some sour milk, too. Potatoes they got from a tiny fenced-in field, no larger than the floor of a small room. Then, too, Grandmother owned a fish-net, so they had fresh fish sometimes,—when Fisher Jonas's boy could help Knut to put out the net.
It was indeed seldom, however, that Knut and his grandmother were well supplied with food, and the boy's little stomach often called for more; but even then he was as cheerful as ever.
One morning he sat on the beach, picking up yellowish stones that looked a little like soft, warm, boiled potatoes. Poor Knut! They would not do to eat, and he laughingly threw them away, but as he did so, he happened to see something that lay among the stones. Picking it up, he found that it was a little whistle or pipe made of reed, such as children often make for themselves when playing on the shore. There was nothing at all remarkable about it, but Knut thought he would see if it gave any sound. Good! It really did. You could play three tones upon it,—pā, pȳ, and pū. When Knut discovered that, he just for fun stuffed the whistle into his jacket pocket.
To-day happened to be a hungry day; Knut had had no breakfast. "Suppose I were sitting now in Mr. Peterman's kitchen at The Ridge," thought Knut; and at once he imagined he could smell herring being fried!
Well, he must do something; so he seated himself on a big rock near the water and began to fish, but the fish would not bite. There had been a storm the day before, but to-day the sea shone like a mirror under the bright sun, and its slow heaving waves swung clear as glass against the shore.
"I do wonder what Grandmother has for dinner," thought Knut to himself.