lk about Karl Bellman, the
songs and poems he wrote, and how much the people loved him.

"He is one of our most famous poets," she said earnestly, and Erik looked
at her and repeated solemnly:--

"Cattle die,
Kinsmen die,
One's self dies, too;
But the fame never dies,
Of him who gets a good name."

"Why, Erik!" exclaimed Karen in surprise; "that is from 'The Song of the
High' by Odin, the king of the gods. How did you happen to know it?"

"I know many things," said Erik with an air of importance. But there were
some things which Erik did not know. One was, how to play the trombone;
and it was his strongest trait that he liked to investigate everything
that was new and strange.

Now, when Karen spoke in such a tone of admiration, Erik felt that he
must find out at once about that queer instrument which made such loud
music; and before Gerda knew what he was doing, he had jumped up from the
ground and walked to the stand where the musicians were playing.

"Let me try it," he said, and held out his hand for the trombone.

Gerda was in an agony of distress. "Run and get him, Birger," she urged.
"Oh, run quick!"

"Erik, Erik, come here!" cried Birger, running after his friend. But
before Birger's voice reached his ears, the trombonist had said very
plainly and harshly, "Get away from here, you dirty Lapp!" and poor Erik
was looking at him with shame and anger in his eyes, when Birger took
hold of his clenched hand and led him away from the bandstand.

It was a hard moment for the twins. People were looking at them and
laughing, and the words, "Lapp! Lapp!" spoken in a tone of ridicule,
could be heard on every side.

"Let us go home," suggested Gerda, her face scarlet with shame at so much
unpleasant attention.

"No," said Birger stoutly, "let us stay right here and show that we don't
care."

But Karen all at once felt very tired, and when she told Gerda about it,
the little party went sadly through the crowd and took their places in
silence on the return steamer.

Neither Birger nor Gerda had any heart to tell their friends the names of
the different buildings which they saw from the deck of the boat,
although Gerda said once, with a brave little effort to make Erik forget
his shame, "We will go home through Erik-gatan."

But Erik looked at her with troubled eyes and made no answer. Not until
they were safely within the walls of home did he speak, and then it was
to ask, "Why did he call me a dirty Lapp?"