Mari, Our Little Norwegian Cousin Part 2

"It seems as though you had enough pets now, Mari. You have your own pony and your dog Kyle. But I hate to refuse you, my dear. Yes, you may have it, but you and Ole must keep it out of mischief. Magpies are sometimes very troublesome birds, for they notice s.h.i.+ning objects and carry them off if they get a chance."

Mari's mother now turned to the string of trout which she hastened to put away in the storeroom. Ole had cleaned them nicely before he brought them home. He now ate his dinner as quickly as possible, after which he and his sister went out into the yard to make a cage for their new pet.

"In a little while he will get tame so he will follow us around," said Ole, as he cut the wooden bars for the cage. "Then we shall need to shut him up only when we wish."

"Isn't he a beauty," exclaimed Mari, as she stroked the magpie. "Look, Ole, at the green and purple feathers in his wings and tail. They are very handsome and glossy."

"Be careful, Mari, or he may bite you. That hooked bill of his is pretty sharp, if he is a young bird. See him look at you with his bright eyes.

They say that magpies will grow fond of one in a very short time."

"Did you ever see a magpie's nest, Ole?"

"Yes, I pa.s.sed one this morning as I went through the woods. It was way back in a thick bush. I crept up and looked in. The mother bird was away, and I saw five pretty green eggs dotted with little purple spots."

"What did you do, Ole? I hope you did not touch them."

"At first, I thought I would, Mari, because, you know, those pretty eggs will sometime hatch out, and the five magpies will fly away to harm smaller and more helpless birds. Besides, they go into the grain-fields and pick the grain. Father isn't very fond of magpies, I can tell you.

"But after thinking for a moment I said to myself, 'No, mother magpie sha'n't be made unhappy to-day by coming home to find her nest empty.'

Then I went away, and ended my morning's sport by trapping this young fellow."

Ole kept on working while he talked. He did his work so cleverly that one could see he was quite a carpenter. He was a tall boy for twelve years, and looked healthy and happy.

You might possibly have laughed at his clothes, for he wore a pair of his father's old trousers, and they were gathered in at the waist to keep them in place. They must have been cut off at the knees so that they should not be too long for the boy. That was the only change made.

His mother said:

"There, those trousers are too much worn for my husband to use any longer. They will do very well for Ole as he runs about on the farm. I will not take time to cut them any smaller. On holidays the boy shall wear his fine clothes, of course."

It is no wonder the good woman had to be careful of her time, for she not only spun, wove, and made their clothing, but she also spun the yarn and knit their stockings. Ole's stockings are often patched with leather to make them last longer. But his feet are not tender, and he does not mind it in the least.

"What kind of a nest did the magpie have?" asked Mari, as Ole finished the cage and they placed the bird inside.

"It was lined with wool and hair and had a sort of roof over it. The opening was very narrow; I really don't see how the mother-bird could get in and out."

"I suppose the roof is to protect the young birds from enemies, don't you, Ole?"

"Yes, Mari; but come, let us go and find some worms for our bird. He must be hungry."

CHAPTER III.

THE CHRISTENING

"O MOTHER, I have something to tell you. I have just been down to the village, and I heard there that neighbour Hans's wife has a new baby. It is a boy. Every one says he is a fine little fellow," said Mari, one beautiful afternoon.

"Dear me! dear me! that is fine news, truly," said her mother. "I must make her a dish of my best porridge and take it to her in the morning."

"Did everybody remember you when I was born, mother?"

"Yes, dear, the people of the village seemed to vie with each other in preparing a dish of flodegrod. It did taste so good! It was hard to tell whose was the best. You must learn how to make this cream porridge now, Mari; you are quite old enough. You will never be thought a good housekeeper if you cannot make smooth flodegrod."

"The baby is to be christened next week. Everybody will be there, of course, mother."

The farm was only half a mile from a little fis.h.i.+ng village on the sh.o.r.e of a deep bay. Such a long, narrow bay is called a fiord. There are many fiords in Norway.

There were only about a dozen cottages in the village, but in their midst was a tiny little church and a small building used as the schoolhouse. But school was not kept there all the year round. Half of the time the master taught in this place, and the rest of the year he spent in another little village a few miles up the coast. Neither of them was large enough to pay for a teacher the whole year round. The children, however, were glad to work hard while he was among them. They loved their teacher and their school, and they learned quickly.

Every one in the place was busy now, getting ready for the christening.

At last came the great day, as bright and sunny a one as could be wished.

All the work on the farm was stopped and every one in the family was dressed in his best. Mari had a fresh white linen kerchief tied under her chin, and also a finely starched ap.r.o.n. Her plump little arms were bare. Her stomacher was worked with bright beads on scarlet cloth. She had embroidered it all herself and she could not help being proud of it.

But perhaps you do not know what a stomacher is. It is a piece of cloth worn as an ornament on the waist and over the stomach. Mari's mother wore one also, but hers was sparkling with silver tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs that had belonged to her great-grandmother.

How fine the father looked in his short coat and knee-breeches. He wore a bright red vest, over which hung his long light beard.

But Mari's mother was the prettiest sight of all. Her muslin ap.r.o.n was trimmed with three rows of lovely open-work. Her scarlet waist was finished with bands of black velvet, with the beautiful stomacher in front of that. She had loose white linen sleeves, and such an odd cap.

You never saw one like it, I am sure. It was made of crimped white muslin with a wide rim over the forehead, with a narrow band beneath that hid her hair. The corners fell down behind nearly to the waist.

Her silver ornaments must also be mentioned. They were really beautiful, and were hundreds of years old.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CHRISTENING.]

Ole looked fine, too, in a suit much like his father's and a little round cap, fitting tightly to his head. You would scarcely have known the family in their holiday dress.

They stepped off gaily, and soon reached the village. They arrived at the church just as the christening party reached it.

"Do look at the dear baby, Ole," said Mari. "Isn't he lovely?"

The nurse was carrying him. He was so swaddled in his fine clothes that you would have almost thought he was an Indian pappoose. Only his face could be seen. The swaddling bands were of many colours,--red, green, and white, and there was a large white satin bow, of course. Every Norse baby wears such a bow to its christening.

And now the flock of people followed the minister into the little church. They pa.s.sed up to the front and gathered around the altar.

"The baby behaves finely, doesn't he?" whispered Ole. "I am real proud of him because he is to have the same name as myself. Did you hear the minister say _Ole_, Mari?"

"Yes, but look now. The baby's father and mother and his G.o.dparents are all going up behind the altar. What is that for?"

"They are laying presents there for the minister. Of course they want to thank him for the christening. I declare, Mari, our baby was christened only last year, and you have forgotten what people do at such times."

"I was so excited then, Ole, I don't believe I noticed it. But come, everybody is going out of the church. Now we shall have the best time, for you know we are invited to the party."

The building was soon empty, and all the people started gaily for the home of the new baby. The minister went with them, of course. He looked very dignified in his long black gown, with a great white ruff about his neck. He loved his people, and took part in all their merry-makings. Ole and Mari were very fond of him. They ran to his side as soon as they got outdoors. Ole took one hand and Mari the other.

It was only a few steps to the little home of the fisherman. Everything had been made ready for the company. The table was spread with the good things that the Norse people love best.

In the centre of the table stood the old silver bowl from which every one must drink to the health of the new baby. This bowl was the most precious thing in the simple home. It had not been used before since the parents of the baby came here and held their wedding-feast.