in the world!" said Alma to herself, and she
expressed her sincere conviction.
At this moment Alma saw the bent form of her father riding slowly
before her. Her whole expression changed again, and she quickened her
steps into a run, and was soon at his side.
"Are you very tired, papa, after your little ride?" she said tenderly.
"No, darling. But how fresh and rosy you look! The air of old Sweden
suits you, I see."
How happy the two were together! how gentle and loving were they both!
Alma really looked like the guardian angel she meant to be to Nono and
Uncle Pelle.
CHAPTER VI.
THE BOYS.
When Decima had been fairly settled as the tenth little baby that had
come to the golden house, Erik, the oldest of the flock, confided to
Nono that he meant to start as soon as possible for America. Nono was
the recipient of the secrets of all the children. They always found in
the little Italian a sympathetic listener, and they could be sure of
his profound silence as to their private communications. Nono's
evident sense of the many for whom Karin was called on to care had
suggested to Erik that although it would be too great a penance for him
to be tending a baby, as Nono did, he could go out and earn his own
living; which would probably be quite as useful to the family. So to
America he had resolved to go, always understanding that he had gained
his parents' permission. That permission was not hard to win, for
Karin had friends who were emigrating, and who would take care of her
boy on the way, and were willing to promise to look after him on his
arrival in the "far West," whither they were bound.
Erik went off cheerily, with his ticket paid to the end of his journey,
and a little box of strong clothing, his Bible, and his parents'
blessing as the capital he took to the new country. Erik had another
treasure, not outside of him, but in his inmost heart--a resolve to
lead in a foreign land just such a life as he should not be ashamed to
have his parents know about, the Word of God being his guide and
comfort. Erik was no experienced Christian, but he had started in the
right spirit.
Erik had never been renowned for his scholarship, but rather for his
industry and skill when real practical work was in question. He wrote
at first short letters in Swedish. They soon came less and less
frequently, and finally in a kind of mixed language, a mingling of the
new and the old, a fair transcript of his pr
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