ust be good; it's a long way."

"May we tell pussy?" Soester looked at Ditte with her big expressive
eyes.

"Yes, and papa," Kristian joined in with.

"Yes, but not any one else," Ditte impressed upon them. "Now
remember that!"

The two little ones were put into the wheelbarrow, and Kristian held
on to the side, and thus they set off. There was snow everywhere,
the bushes were weighted down with it, and on the cart track the ice
cracked under the wheel. It was all so jolly, the black crows, the
magpies which screamed at them from the thorn-bushes, and the rime
which suddenly dropped from the trees, right on to their heads.

It was three miles to the forest, but Ditte was used to much longer
distances, and counted this as nothing. Kristian and Soester took
turns in walking, Povl wanted to walk in the snow too, but was told
to stay where he was and be good.

All went well until they had got halfway. Then the little ones began
to tire of it, asking impatiently for the forest. They were cold,
and Ditte had to stop every other moment to rub their fingers. The
sun had melted the snow, making it dirty and heavy under foot, and
she herself was getting tired. She tried to cheer them up, and
trailed on a little further; but outside the bailiff's farm they all
came to a hopeless standstill. A big fierce dog thought their
hesitation suspicious and barred their way.

Per Nielsen came out on the porch to see why the dog barked so
furiously; he at once saw what had happened, and took the children
indoors. It was dinner-time, the wife was in the kitchen frying
bacon and apples together. It smelt delicious. She thawed their
frozen fingers in cold water; when they were all right again, all
three stood round the fire. Ditte tried to get them away, but they
were hungry.

"You shall have some too," said the bailiff's wife, "but sit down on
that bench and be good; you're in my way." They were each given a
piece of cake, and then seated at the scoured table. They had never
been out before, their eyes went greedily from one thing to another,
as they were eating; on the walls hung copperware, which shone like
the sun, and on the fire was a big bright copper kettle with a cover
to the spout. It was like a huge hen sitting on eggs.

When they had finished their meal, Per Nielsen took them out and
showed them the little pigs, lying like rolls of sausages round the
mother. Then they went into the house again, and the wife gave them
app