h those women who spoke so harshly, though their words were kind.
Hansa and he were happy alone together. Each season brought its own
joys to their simple, childish hearts; but they loved best the soft,
balmy summer-time, when the harvests ripened quickly in the warm
sunshine, and they could wander away from their tent to the fields
where the reapers were at work, who had always a kindly word for the
gentle, quiet Lapp children. Here Hansa would sit for hours, weaving
garlands of the sweet yellow violets, pink heath, anemones, and dainty
harebells, that grew in such profusion along the borders of the fields
and among the grain, that the reapers, in cutting the wheat, laid the
flowers low before them as well. Niels liked to bind the sheaves, and
did his work so deftly that he was always welcome. He it was, too, who
made such a wonderful "scarecrow" that not a bird dared venture near.
But little Hansa laughed and said: "Silly birds! the old hat cannot
harm you. See! I will bring my flowers close beside it." Then the
reapers, laughing, called the ugly scarecrow "Hansa's guardian."

So the years went by, and the children lived their quiet life, happy
with each other. It seemed as though the tender mother-love that had
been theirs in their babyhood was around them still, guarding and
shielding them from harm. Niels was a wonderful boy, the neighbors
said, and little Hansa, by the time she was twelve years old, could
spin and weave, and embroider on tanned reindeer-skins (which are used
for boots and harness) better than many a Lapp woman. Besides, she was
so clever and good that every one loved her. Every one, alas! but
Haakon, her father. He was not openly cruel; with Gunilda's death the
blows had ceased, but Hansa seemed to look at him with her mother's
gentle, reproachful eyes, and so he dreaded and disliked her.

One summer's day he said, suddenly: "Hansa, to-day the great fair in
Lyngen is held; dress yourself in your best clothes, and I will take
you there."

"Oh, how kind, dear father!" said Hansa, whose tender little heart
warmed at even the semblance of a kind word. "That will be joyful! But,
may Niels go also? I _cannot_ go without him," she said, entreatingly,
as she saw her father's brow darken.

But Haakon said, gruffly: "No, Niels may _not_ go; he must stay at home
to guard the tent."

"Never mind, Hansa," whispered Niels; "I shall not be lonely, and you
will have so many things to tell me and to show me w