melted the last snow, had brought the first spring
flowers to the surface. A merry spring wind was blowing, drying up the
damp places in the shadow. High above in the azure heaven the eagle
floated peacefully.

Heidi and her grandfather were back on the Alp. The child was so happy
to be home again that she jumped about among the beloved objects. Here
she discovered a new spring bud, and there she watched the gay little
gnats and beetles that were swarming in the sun.

The grandfather was busy in his little shop, and a sound of hammering
and sawing could be heard. Heidi had to go and see what the
grandfather was making. There before the door stood a neat new chair,
while the old man was busy making a second.

"Oh, I know what they are for," said Heidi gaily. "You are making them
for Clara and grandmama. Oh, but we need a third--or do you think that
Miss Rottenmeier won't come, perhaps?"

"I really don't know," said grandfather: "but it is safer to have a
chair for her, if she should come."

Heidi, thoughtfully looking at the backless chairs, remarked:
"Grandfather, I don't think she would sit down on those."

"Then we must invite her to sit down on the beautiful green lounge of
grass," quietly answered the old man.

While Heidi was still wondering what the grandfather had meant, Peter
arrived, whistling and calling. As usual, Heidi was soon surrounded by
the goats, who also seemed happy to be back on the Alp. Peter, angrily
pushing the goats aside, marched up to Heidi, thrusting a letter into
her hand.

"Did you get a letter for me on the pasture?" Heidi said, astonished.

"No."

"Where did it come from?"

"From my bag."

The letter had been given to Peter the previous evening; putting it in
his lunch-bag, the boy had forgotten it there till he opened the bag
for his dinner. Heidi immediately recognized Clara's handwriting, and
bounding over to her grandfather, exclaimed: "A letter has come from
Clara. Wouldn't you like me to read it to you, grandfather?"

Heidi immediately read to her two listeners, as follows:--

DEAR HEIDI:--

We are all packed up and shall travel in two or three days. Papa
is leaving, too, but not with us, for he has to go to Paris
first. The dear doctor visits us now every day, and as soon as
he opens the door, he calls, 'Away to the Alp!' for he can
hardly wait for us to go. If you only knew how he enjoyed being
with you last fall! He came nearly eve