teeth, and clear soft eyes; and her
footstep was light in the dance, but her mind was lighter still. She
had a little child, not at all pretty; so he was put out to be
nursed by a laborer's wife, and his mother went to the count's castle.
She sat in splendid rooms, richly decorated with silk and velvet;
not a breath of air was allowed to blow upon her, and no one was
allowed to speak to her harshly, for she was nurse to the count's
child. He was fair and delicate as a prince, and beautiful as an
angel; and how she loved this child! Her own boy was provided for by
being at the laborer's where the mouth watered more frequently than
the pot boiled, and where in general no one was at home to take care
of the child. Then he would cry, but what nobody knows nobody cares
for; so he would cry till he was tired, and then fall asleep; and
while we are asleep we can feel neither hunger nor thirst. Ah, yes;
sleep is a capital invention.

As years went on, Anne Lisbeth's child grew apace like weeds,
although they said his growth had been stunted. He had become quite
a member of the family in which he dwelt; they received money to
keep him, so that his mother got rid of him altogether. She had become
quite a lady; she had a comfortable home of her own in the town; and
out of doors, when she went for a walk, she wore a bonnet; but she
never walked out to see the laborer: that was too far from the town,
and, indeed, she had nothing to go for, the boy now belonged to
these laboring people. He had food, and he could also do something
towards earning his living; he took care of Mary's red cow, for he
knew how to tend cattle and make himself useful.

The great dog by the yard gate of a nobleman's mansion sits
proudly on the top of his kennel when the sun shines, and barks at
every one that passes; but if it rains, he creeps into his house,
and there he is warm and dry. Anne Lisbeth's boy also sat in the
sunshine on the top of the fence, cutting out a little toy. If it
was spring-time, he knew of three strawberry-plants in blossom,
which would certainly bear fruit. This was his most hopeful thought,
though it often came to nothing. And he had to sit out in the rain
in the worst weather, and get wet to the skin, and let the cold wind
dry the clothes on his back afterwards. If he went near the farmyard
belonging to the count, he was pushed and knocked about, for the men
and the maids said he was so horrible ugly; but he was use