walked away.

When she had shut, the door, she gave her head a little toss and her
shoulders a little shake, and said: 'I only said "Thank you," not "Yes,
thank you," for I mean to go near the river. There is nowhere else to
play. Mother always lets me go by the river, so why should Grandmother
forbid it?'

Now, the stream where Rosa generally played was only a tributary, and
was not nearly so deep and wide as the main river where she now was.
Rosa stood on the bank watching the great pine-trunks, which, in Sweden,
are always floating down by the rivers to the sea. The woodmen cut the
trees down, mark them, and let them float where they will, and the
owners claim the logs when they reach the Baltic. Rosa and her brother
Rolf used to jump on these trees sometimes when they struck near the
shore, float down the stream a little way, and then jump off again. It
was always a dangerous game for children to play, but much more
dangerous on the large river than on the little tributary.

After a few minutes Rosa saw three large trunks, firmly bound together,
coming close up to her.

'What a lovely boat!' she cried. 'Oh, but I have on my best clothes!'

Rosa loved her clothes--but she loved floating on the river more; with a
skip and a little jump, there she was, perched like a bird on the
tree-trunks, floating away in the middle of the stream, with her scarlet
petticoat held out for a sail.

'Oh! how lovely,' she said to herself. 'I am going ever so much faster
than in our stream, and how far away the banks seem. I am like a big
steamer in the middle of the sea itself.'

For some time Rosa thoroughly enjoyed it. Then she became a little bit
afraid, though she was too proud to admit it, even to herself. There was
nothing on either side of the river, but deep pine forests that she did
not know. There was no sound but the rush of the river; and she wished
her little boat would go near the bank. Perhaps it would catch on that
bit of rock sticking out. No, the river gave it a wicked tug and swept
it round the point with a triumphant gurgle. Could Rosa catch an
overhanging tree? She tried to, but the effort nearly jerked her into
the water, and left nothing but a few crumpled leaves in her hand.

The thought of falling into that dark, cold water thoroughly frightened
her, and she now quite forgot even to pretend to enjoy herself. She
firmly stood on the logs, shutting her eyes tight, so as to try to
forget her fears.

Then