ally seen them before. The cat came out at that moment, and lay down
on the stone before the door in the sunshine.
"What does the cat say?" asked Oeyvind, pointing. His mother sang:
"'At evening softly shines the sun,
The cat lies lazy on the stone.
Two small mice,
Cream, thick, and nice,
Four bits of fish,
I stole behind a dish,
And am so lazy and tired,
Because so well I have fared,'
says the cat."
But then came the cock, with all the hens. "What does the cock say?"
asked Oeyvind, clapping his hands together. His mother sang:
"'The mother hen her wings doth sink,
The cock stands on one leg to think:
That grey goose
Steers high her course;
But sure am I that never she
As clever as a cock can be.
Run in, you hens, keep under the roof to-day,
For the sun has got leave to stay away,'
says the cock."
But the little birds were sitting on the ridgepole, singing. "What do
the birds say?" asked Oeyvind, laughing.
"'Dear Lord, how pleasant is life,
For those who have neither toil nor strife,'
say the birds."
And she told him what they all said, down to the ant who crawled in
the moss, and the worm who worked in the bark.
* * * * *
That same summer, one day, his mother came in and said to him,
"To-morrow school begins and then you are going there with me."
Oeyvind had heard that school was a place where many children played
together, and he had no objection. Indeed, he was much pleased, and he
was so anxious to get there that he walked faster than his mother up
over the hills.
When he came in there sat as many children around a table as he had
ever seen at church. Others were sitting around the walls. They all
looked up as Oeyvind and his mother entered, and as he was going to
find a seat they all wanted to make room for him. He looked around a
long time with his cap in his hand, and just as he was going to sit
down he saw close beside him, sitting by the hearth-stone, Marit of
the many names. She had covered her face with both hands, and sat
peeping at him through her fingers.
"I shall sit here," said Oeyvind quickly, seating himself at her side,
and then she laughed and he laughed too.
"Is it always like this here?" he whispered to Marit.
"Yes, just like this; I have a goat now," she said.
"Have you?"
"Yes; but it is not so pretty as yours."
"Why don't you come oftener up
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