eing bored to death.

One day something did happen! From one of the big farms, lying at
the other side of the common, with woods bounding the sandhills,
Maren had received permission to gather sticks in the wood every
Tuesday. There was not much heat in them, but they were good enough
for making a cup of coffee.

These Tuesdays were made into picnics. They took their meals with
them, which they enjoyed in some pleasant spot, preferably by the
edge of the lake, and Ditte would sit on the wheelbarrow on both
journeys. When they had got their load, they would pick berries
or--in the autumn--crab-apples and sloes, which were afterwards
cooked in the oven.

Now Granny was ill, having cried so much that she could no longer
see--which Ditte quite understood--but the extraordinary part of it
was that the water seemed to have gone to her legs, so that she
could not stand on them. The little one had to trudge all alone to
the forest for the sticks. It was a long way, but to make up for it,
the forest was full of interest. Now she could go right in, where
otherwise she was not allowed to go, because Granny was afraid of
getting lost, and always kept to the outskirts. There were singing
birds in there, their twittering sounded wonderful under the green
trees, the air was like green water with rays of light in it, and it
hummed and seethed in the darkness under the bushes.

Ditte was not afraid, though it must be admitted she occasionally
shivered. Every other minute she stopped to listen, and when a dry
stick snapped, she started, thrilled with excitement. She was not
bored here, her little body was brimming over with the wonder of it;
each step brought her fresh experiences full of unknown solemnity.
Suddenly it would jump out at her with a frightful: pshaw!--exactly
as the fire did when Granny poured paraffin over it--and she would
hurry away, as quickly as her small feet would carry her, until she
came to an opening in the wood.

On one of these flights she came to a wide river, with trees bending
over it. It was like a wide stream of greenness flowing down, and
Ditte stood transfixed, in breathless wonder. The green of the river
she quickly grasped, for this was the color poured down on all
trees--and the river here was the end of the world. Over on the
other side the Lord lived; if she looked very hard she could just
catch a glimpse of his gray bearded face in a thicket of thorns. But
how was all this greenness made?