k_, which is said to have been inherited from the
_Huldre-folk_, a species of fairy that are very pretty, but
unfortunately have tails. Usually a young farmer falls in love with
one of the girls, and when he discovers that she has a tail, is so
shocked and disappointed that he throws himself over a precipice; or
perhaps the _Huldre-folk_ gobble him up and carry him off into the
mountains of the _Josteldalsbrae_ and keep him there, while the girl
he left behind him grieves herself to death because of his desertion.

The dairy maids are supposed to have a peculiar costume, and
photographs are often seen of them arrayed in picturesque dress, but I
never saw them worn. In all the _saeters_ I visited the clothes worn
were very plain and ordinary, and seemed to have been selected for
wear and not for looks.

We visited a _saeter_ one day and found two young people in charge, a
boy and a girl, neither of them over seventeen, we should judge from
appearances. Their herd consisted of fifteen cows, and they expected
to remain in that desolate country two or three months, making cheese
and butter. Our little _saeterjenta_ had the heart of a poet, although
her brother seemed stupid, and even liberal presents of money did not
wake him up or make him interesting. I do not suppose that this child
had ever been twenty miles from the humble cabin in which she was
born, but the wide, wide world had been opened to her through the
books she had studied at school. She could talk a little English,
and knew a good deal about the United States. She had a brother in
Minnesota, and many of the boys and girls in the neighborhood had gone
across the Atlantic and found homes on the saeterless prairies of our
Northwest. She would like to go herself, she said, but her mother
was old and feeble and the work of the farm fell upon her little
shoulders. Yet she was brave and contented. Her mind was clear, her
imagination active, and among her homely surroundings she had found
food for thought and an opportunity to give expression to the poetic
sentiments that inspired her. Each of her fifteen cows had a name. One
she called Moon Lady, because she often wanders away at night; another
the Crown Wearer, because of a peculiar tuft upon her head. She
addressed them all in terms of affection and talked to them, seeking
their sympathy, for, poor child, they and that stupid, tow-headed
_broder_ were her only companions.

In the little _saeterjenta_ we have a