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  Before very long the dainty form of a little maiden advanced towardhim. Her name was Elisabeth, and she might have been five years old.He himself was twice that age. Round her neck she wore a red silkkerchief which was very becoming to her brown eyes.

  "Reinhard!" she cried, "we have a holiday, a holiday! No school thewhole day and none to-morrow either!"

  Reinhard was carrying his slate under his arm, but he flung it behindthe front door, and then both the children ran through the house intothe garden and through the garden gate out into the meadow. Theunexpected holiday came to them at a most happily opportune moment.

  It was in the meadow that Reinhard, with Elisabeth's help, had built ahouse out of sods of grass. They meant to live in it during the summerevenings; but it still wanted a bench. He set to work at once; nails,hammer, and the necessary boards were already to hand.

  While he was thus engaged, Elisabeth went along the dyke, gatheringthe ring-shaped seeds of the wild mallow in her apron, with the objectof making herself chains and necklaces out of them; so that whenReinhard had at last finished his bench in spite of many a crookedlyhammered nail, and came out into the sunlight again, she was alreadywandering far away at the other end of the meadow.

  "Elisabeth!" he called, "Elisabeth!" and then she came, her hairstreaming behind her.

  "Come here," he said; "our house is finished now. Why, you have gotquite hot! Come in, and let us sit on the new bench. I will tell you astory."

  So they both went in and sat down on the new bench. Elisabeth took thelittle seed-rings out of her apron and strung them on long threads.Reinhard began his tale: "There were once upon a time threespinning-women..."[1]

  [1] The beginning of one of the best known of Grimm's fairy tales.

  "Oh!" said Elisabeth, "I know that off by heart; you really must notalways tell me the same story."

  Accordingly Reinhard had to give up the story of the threespinning-women and tell instead the story of the poor man who was castinto the den of lions.

  "It was now night," he said, "black night, you know, and the lionswere asleep. But every now and then they would yawn in their sleep andshoot out their red tongues. And then the man would shudder and thinkit was morning. All at once a bright light fell all about him, andwhen he looked up an angel was standing before him. The angel beckonedto him with his hand and then went straight into the rocks."

  Elisabeth had been listening attentively. "An angel?" she said. "Hadhe wings then?"

  "It is only a story," answered Reinhard; "there are no angels, youknow."

  "Oh, fie! Reinhard!" she said, staring him straight in the face.

  He looked at her with a frown, and she asked him hesitatingly: "Well,why do they always say there are? mother, and aunt, and at school aswell?"

  "I don't know," he answered.

  "But tell me," said Elisabeth, "are there no lions either?"

  "Lions? Are there lions? In India, yes. The heathen priests harnessthem to their carriages, and drive about the desert with them. WhenI'm big, I mean to go out there myself. It is thousands of times morebeautiful in that country than it is here at home; there's no winterat all there. And you must come with me. Will you?"

  "Yes," said Elisabeth; "but mother must come with us, and your motheras well."

  "No," said Reinhard, "they will be too old then, and cannot come withus."

  "But I mayn't go by myself."

  "Oh, but you may right enough; you will then really be my wife, andthe others will have no say in the matter."

  "But mother will cry!"

  "We shall come back again of course," said Reinhard impetuously. "Nowjust tell me straight out, will you go with me? If not, I will go allalone, and then I shall never come back again."

  The little girl came very near to crying. "Please don't look soangry," said she; "I will go to India with you."

  Reinhard seized both her hands with frantic glee, and rushed out withher into the meadow.

  "To India, to India!" he sang, and swung her round and round, so thather little red kerchief was whirled from off her neck. Then hesuddenly let her go and said solemnly:

  "Nothing will come of it, I'm sure; you haven't the pluck."

  "Elisabeth! Reinhard!" some one was now calling from the garden gate."Here we are!" the children answered, and raced home hand in hand.

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  IN THE WOODS