ly into her stall.
"How are mother and father? How are the cat and the chickens? What has
become of Star and Gold-Lily?"
When Mayrose heard the boy's voice she started, and appeared as if she
were going to gore him. But she was not so quick-tempered now as
formerly, and took time to look well at Nils Holgersson.
He was just as little now as when he went away, and wore the same
clothes; yet he was completely changed. The Nils Holgersson that went
away in the spring had a heavy, slow gait, a drawling speech, and sleepy
eyes. The one that had come back was lithe and alert, ready of speech,
and had eyes that sparkled and danced. He had a confident bearing that
commanded respect, little as he was. Although he himself did not look
happy, he inspired happiness in others.
"Moo!" bellowed Mayrose. "They told me that he was changed, but I
couldn't believe it. Welcome home, Nils Holgersson! Welcome home! This
is the first glad moment I have known for ever so long!"
"Thank you, Mayrose!" said the boy, who was very happy to be so well
received.
"Now tell me all about father and mother."
"They have had nothing but hardship ever since you went away," said
Mayrose. "The horse has been a costly care all summer, for he has stood
in the stable the whole time and not earned his feed. Your father is too
soft-hearted to shoot him and he can't sell him. It was on account of
the horse that both Star and Gold-Lily had to be sold."
There was something else the boy wanted badly to know, but he was
diffident about asking the question point blank. Therefore he said:
"Mother must have felt very sorry when she discovered that Morten
Goosey-Gander had flown?"
"She wouldn't have worried much about Morten Goosey-Gander had she
known the way he came to leave. She grieves most at the thought of her
son having run away from home with a goosey-gander."
"Does she really think that I _stole_ the goosey-gander?" said the boy.
"What else could she think?"
"Father and mother must fancy that I've been roaming about the country,
like a common tramp?"
"They think that you've gone to the dogs," said Mayrose. "They have
mourned you as one mourns the loss of the dearest thing on earth."
As soon as the boy heard this, he rushed from the cow shed and down to
the stable.
It was small, but clean and tidy. Everything showed that his father had
tried to make the place comfortable for the new horse. In the stall
stood a strong, fine animal
|