Hoel Farm people, must be up early to help. Later in the day the calves
that had been born in the cow house during the winter were to be let
out for the first time, and Lisbeth would have to look after them for
that afternoon at any rate. Kjersti had said also that Lisbeth was to
be allowed to give the calves their names,--names that they would keep
all their lives, even after they had grown to be full-sized cows.

The next day after the letting out of the animals Lisbeth was to take a
lunch bag and begin her spring work of going into the forest all day to
watch the sheep and goats. It would not do to have them running about
the fields at home any longer, Kjersti said.

Suddenly Lisbeth recollected what it was that she had pondered over so
long as she lay awake the evening before,--it was the names of the
calves. In spite of all her pondering she had got no farther than to
wonder whether the cow with the red sides and white head and the gentle
but bright-looking face should not be called Bliros. That idea,
however, she had given up; it seemed to her that only one cow in the
world could be called Bliros. Then she had determined to think no
longer about Bliros or the names of the calves, and so had fallen
asleep.

What if she had overslept herself now! She hoped not, with all her
heart, for she had heard Kjersti Hoel say that she did not like girls
to lie abed late and dally in the morning. How mortifying it would be
for her not to be on the spot as early as the others to-day, her very
first working day!

Wide-awake now, Lisbeth hopped quickly out of bed and popped into her
long frock. Then, having made her bed[6] with all haste, she opened the
door, went out through the hall way, and stood on the outside steps.

[6] Lisbeth meant to be very neat and tidy, but she should have
let her bed air longer before making it!

The sun had just risen above the highest spruce tops over the edge of
the eastern hills, and the light was flooding the sides of the valley
like a waterfall. In the meadows and on the sloping fields the sunbeams
quivered in the dew. They sifted in gold, they glittered in green, they
silvered the clear brooks that babbled down the hills. From every bush
came a twittering and chirping and clapping of wings. From everything,
everywhere, came a message of joy and activity and sprouting life.
Mingled in one great morning effervescence, single sights and sounds
were lost; only the call of the cu