THE SEARCH CONTINUES
Greta was up earlier than ever the next morning. Maybe the Nisser had
decided not to punish her after all. Maybe the mysterious little
creatures would bring her kittens back. So Greta dashed out to the barn
to look. But the bed of straw was still empty.
All day long there was sadness in her heart. The other children at
school were very gay, for this was the last day of school. There was
much singing and there were many games. There was more singing and games
and laughter than there were lessons. But Greta was not gay. She kept
thinking of her lost kittens, and every now and then there was the
awful fear that she might lose Chouse, too.
She hurried home from school even faster than the day before. Chouse had
to run, run, run to keep up with her bicycle. He barked and barked, as
if he wanted to say, "Greta, don't go so fast." But Greta kept right on
going. Nothing could stop her. She rode right up to the barn door and
ran inside. Maybe the kittens had come back. But no, the bed of straw
was empty.
Then Greta remembered that she had not looked in the garden. Maybe the
kittens were out there playing, and the Nisser hadn't taken them at all.
Joyously she ran across the courtyard, with Chouse close at her heels.
Chouse thought his little mistress was going to play with him again, as
she used to do, so he ran on ahead of her and hid under a peony bush. He
lay there without making a sound, waiting for Greta to find him. But
Greta paid no attention to the little wire-haired terrier.
[Illustration: THE ROAD TO SCHOOL]
She walked slowly up and down the garden paths, looking carefully to the
right and left. Then she began to look under the rose bushes and the
peony bushes and the big clumps of iris. After a while Chouse came out
from his hiding place and followed his young mistress all around the
garden. It was no use trying to get her to play with him.
It took a long time for Greta to search the entire garden. Every home in
Denmark has a flower garden, and this was one of the largest and
prettiest for miles around. Greta looked under every inch of the thick
hedge that surrounded the garden. She looked all through the bed of
marigolds and the bed of poppies and the bed of tulips. By this time
Chouse seemed to know that she was searching for something and he tried
to help her. He began poking into all the flower beds himself. While
they were in the midst of their search, old Peter, the gardener, came
along and stopped to watch them.
"Chouse, you naughty dog, get out of the flower beds!" Old Peter was
angry. He had worked very hard all spring to make the garden beautiful.
For many hours he had raked and hoed and watered the flower beds. And
now, in ten minutes, this naughty Chouse had undone all his work.
[Illustration: CHOUSE]
"Oh, Peter, I've lost my kittens and Chouse is helping me look for them.
Please don't scold him." If Peter complained about Chouse, then her pet
surely would be sent away, thought Greta.
"Lost your kittens, Greta? Well, now, that's too bad. Maybe I can help
you find them."
So old Peter took his hoe and he started poking among the flower beds,
too. He poked and he poked, but not a kitten did he find. Greta got down
on her hands and knees and looked and looked, but not a kitten did she
find. And Chouse poked and scratched and dug up the earth, but not a
kitten did he find. The kittens just weren't there.
Every evening, between nine and ten o'clock, the family gathered in the
living room for coffee. This was an old, old custom in Denmark, where
the people like coffee better than any other drink. Greta was usually in
bed by nine o'clock, but since there was no school the next day, her
mother let her stay up with the rest of the family. Instead of coffee,
Greta had a bowl of strawberries and cream. They were large, sweet
berries, fresh from the strawberry patch on the farm. June was the
strawberry month in Denmark. They seemed to grow everywhere, and
everyone ate them, three or four times a day.
Greta said hardly a word all evening. She was afraid to ask her father
what he was going to do with Chouse. Maybe he would forget the whole
matter if nothing were said about it. And she didn't mention the
kittens, for that would bring up the subject of Chouse.
Greta's mother noticed that the little girl was unusually quiet.
"Greta, how would you like to have Anna come and visit you this summer?"
her mother asked.
"Oh, Mother, that would be wonderful." Greta's face was one big smile.
Anna was her cousin, and she lived in Copenhagen. Four years ago she
had spent the summer on the farm with Greta and Hans, and the three
children had had fun together all summer long.
[Illustration: GRETA ON HER BALCONY]
[Illustration: HANS AND CHOUSE]
"You can write her in the morning and invite her to visit you."
Greta ran across the room to her mother and gave her a big hug. "Oh,
Mother, you are _so_ sweet!"
Greta's mother smiled. She understood little girls. She knew that Greta
had been sad, and she wanted to make her happy.
"I guess Anna is quite a big girl by now, Greta. Let's see. She must be
thirteen years old."
"Do you suppose she will act like a young lady? Or will she want to play
with me?"
"Her mother says she is quite a tomboy, so I'm sure she will want to
play with you."
"Shall I ask her to bring her bicycle?" After her family and her dog and
her kittens, Greta liked her bicycle better than anything else in the
world. She knew that she wouldn't want to leave _her_ bicycle at home if
she went away for the summer. So surely Anna would like to bring hers
along.
"She doesn't need to bring her bicycle, Greta," said Hans. "She can use
mine."
"Yes, I think that will be best, Greta," said her mother.
[Illustration: EVERY HOME HAS ITS GARDEN]
"And I'll let her use my new boat, too," added the boy.
"Why, Hans, you won't let _me_ use your boat."
"But you are only ten, and Anna is thirteen," argued Hans.
"Even if I am only ten, I can paddle a boat."
"Time for bed now, Greta," reminded her mother. She didn't want the day
to end in a quarrel.
"I'll get up early, Mother, and write Anna the very first thing."
Greta kissed her mother and father good night and started to bed. Her
own little room was just across the hall from the living room. The
dining room, the living room, and three of the bedrooms were on the
second floor of the house. On the first floor there was the kitchen, the
maids' rooms, and the large office for Greta's father. Greta liked her
little room, and she especially liked the balcony that was just outside
her room. It was a small balcony looking out over the courtyard. It was
fun to play on this balcony and to pretend that she was an actress
bowing to a large crowd of people.
Just as she was ready to jump into bed, Greta heard a scratching sound
on her door. It was Chouse, who felt very much neglected because Greta
had forgotten to pat him good night. This was the first time she had
forgotten it, but Chouse hadn't forgotten. So there he was.
Greta hugged him tight. "Oh, Chouse, I _can't_ let Father send you away.
Whatever would I do without you? Even if you did hide my kittens, I
don't want to lose you. And you _will_ be a good dog, won't you?"
Chouse barked once, which meant "Yes," and Greta hugged him again, just
for luck.