[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
MARI
Our Little Norwegian Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover, per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
By Mary Hazelton Wade
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. MacDonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Hungarian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Persian Cousin=
By E. C. Shedd
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: MARI.]
MARI Our Little Norwegian Cousin
By Mary Hazelton Wade
_Illustrated by_
L. J. Bridgman
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_PUBLISHERS_
_Copyright, 1903_
By L. C. Page & Company
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Fifth Impression, June, 1908
Sixth Impression, March, 1910
Preface
LONG before Columbus discovered America, there were brave men in the
north of Europe who dared to sail farther out upon the unknown waters of
the Atlantic than any other people in the world. These daring seamen
were called Vikings. Their home was the peninsula of Scandinavia, now
ruled over by one king, although divided into two distinct countries,
Norway and Sweden.
It was along the shores of Norway, with rugged mountains fringing its
deep bays, that the Vikings learned command of their curious,
high-prowed ships, and overcame all fear of wind and storm. Their strong
nature shows itself to-day in the people of Norway, who patiently endure
many hardships while trying to get a living on the rough mountain-sides
or along the rocky coasts.
Many of our Norwegian cousins have come to America to make a new home
for themselves where the sun shines more warmly and the winds blow less
keenly. Their fair-haired children are growing up amongst us, showing us
the qualities their parents most admire. Be brave, be honest, be kind to
all creatures, be faithful to every little duty,--these are the lessons
they have been taught from babyhood, as well as their brothers and
sisters who have not as yet ventured far from the land they love so
well,--the land of rapid-flowing rivers, deep, dark bays, and narrow
valleys.
Come with me to-day to the home of one of these blue-eyed cousins and
join her for a while in her work and play.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE FARM 9
II. VISITORS 21
III. THE CHRISTENING 36
IV. THE LOST PIN 46
V. THE BIRTHDAY 59
VI. THE WEDDING 66
VII. LEGENDS 72
VIII. THE LUMBER CAMP 92
IX. THE LAPPS 101
X. HOLIDAY FROLICS 111
List of Illustrations
PAGE
MARI _Frontispiece_
"IT WAS A SORT OF GIG WITH VERY LONG SHAFTS" 22
THE CHRISTENING 41
CARVED HOUSES AT THELEMARKEN 62
SKI-LOBING 74
"'IT IS ALWAYS IN THE SHAPE OF A MOUND'" 103
MARI
Our Little Norwegian Cousin
CHAPTER I.
THE FARM
"COME, Mari, my little daughter, and you shall help me make the cakes,"
called her mother.
Mari stood in the middle of the big farm-yard with a flock of hens
around her. She was scattering grain among them from a big bag on her
arm; not a sound could be heard except once in a while the scratching of
the hens' feet. They were too busy to notice each other or the big dog
that sat on the door-step.
The little girl laughed quietly as she watched them. "They are so happy;
they love this pleasant summer-time as much as I do," she said to
herself.
But the moment she heard her mother's voice, she turned quickly toward
the house without stopping a moment longer to see whether her pet hen,
Biddy Wee, or cross old Yellow Legs got the most dinner. Mari never in
her life thought of answering her parents by saying:
"Why, papa?" or "Why, mamma?" or "I'll come in a moment."
Mari lives in Norway, and Norwegian parents train their children to obey
without delay.
The little girl was only too glad to come now, however. Her mother had
promised she should learn to make flat-bread to-day. She was pleased
that she was old enough to be trusted with this important work. Why, she
could keep house alone when she had mastered this necessary art, and her
mother could leave her in charge.
Mari remembers when she was such a tiny tot that her head barely reached
above the table. Even then she loved to watch her mother as she sat at
the big moulding-board, rolling out the dough until it was nearly as
thin as paper.
This dough was made of barley-meal which was raised here at the farm. It
was rolled out into sheets almost as wide as the table itself, for each
cake must be about a half-yard across. Then came the cooking. The cake
was lifted from the board to a hot flat stone on the fireplace, where it
was quickly baked. How fast the pile grew! and how skilful mother always
was. She never seemed to burn or break a single cake.
Wherever you go in Mari's country you will find flat-bread. You can eat
quantities of it, if you like, yet somehow it will not easily check your
hunger, and it gives little strength.
"Now, dear, be careful not to get a grain of dust on the floor," said
her mother, as Mari stood at the table ready for directions.
The child looked very pretty, with her long, light hair hanging down her
back in two braids. The snowy kerchief was tied under her chin just as
it was when she came in from the farm-yard. She had no need to put on an
apron before beginning her work, for she already wore one. She was never
without it, in fact, and hardly thought herself dressed in the morning
until her apron had been fastened around her plump little waist.
Her cheeks looked rosy enough to kiss, but such a thing seldom happened,
for mothers in Norway believe that is a bad habit. They think that it
often leads to the carrying of disease from one person to another.
"Shake hands with the baby and the children," they would say, "but
please don't kiss them." They are wise in this,--don't you think so?
Before Mari had rolled out six cakes, her cheeks grew rosier yet. It was
hard work, although it had seemed easy enough when mother was doing it.
The first three cakes had to be rolled over and over again because they
would stick to the board. Then the lifting was not such a simple thing
as Mari had supposed before she came to do it herself. But she kept
trying. Her mother was very patient and encouraged her with loving
smiles and kind words. At last the little girl made a really _good_ cake
and landed it all by herself on the stone, without doubling, or even
wrinkling, it.
"Good, good," said her mother, "you will soon be a real helper, Mari.
But now you have worked long enough for the first time. I will finish
the baking while you take the baby and give him an airing."
And where was the baby, bless him? Mari knew, for she went at once to
the other side of the room where a pole was fastened into the wall. A
big basket was hanging down from the end of this pole, and in the basket
was a little blue-eyed baby, cooing softly to himself.
Mari's mother was a very busy woman. There was always something to do,
either inside the house or out-of-doors. She had very little time for
holding a baby. So when Mari and her brothers were away at school, and
mother was left alone, that dear little rosy-cheeked fellow sometimes
began to cry in a very lively manner. The cooking and the cheese-making
and the spinning must go on just the same, and time could not be spent
in holding a baby.
But he must be amused in some way. So the strong pole was fastened into
the wall, and the cradle attached to the end. Do you wonder what fun
there could be in staying up in that basket, hour after hour? The baby
enjoyed it because the pole would spring a little at every movement of
his body. As long as he kept awake, he could, and did, bob up and down.
That was amusement enough.
He was glad to see Mari now. She was a perfect little mother, and soon
had his hood and cloak fastened on. They were hardly needed, for he was
already done up in so many garments, it didn't seem possible he could be
cold, wherever he went.
The living-room, where Mari had been working, was large and high. The
beams were dark with age, but the floor was white from the many
scrubbings Mari's mother had given it.
On one side of the room was the big fireplace where all the cooking was
done. During the long winter evenings the family and servants sat in
front of the blazing logs and told stories of the famous sea-captains of
the olden times. Or perhaps they talked of the fairies and giants, in
whom Mari firmly believed. Her mother laughed at the idea of these
wonderful creatures. Yet, after all, it was not more than a hundred
years ago that they seemed real to many grown-up people.
Wonderful creatures who made themselves seen from time to time dwelt in
the mountains, the fields, and the rivers. This is what Mari's
great-grandma had believed, and was she not a sensible woman? It is no
wonder, therefore, that our little cousin loved to think that these
beings were still real. When she went to sleep at night, she often
dreamed of the gnomes who live far down in the earth, or the giants who
once dwelt among the mountains.
When she was very little she sometimes waked up from such dreams with a
shiver. "O, don't let the cruel giant get me," she would cry. Then she
would jump out of her own little cot into the big bed of her parents.
She felt quite safe as soon as her mother's loving arms held her
tightly, and she was sound asleep again in a minute.
That big bed certainly looked strong enough to be a fortress against the
giants or any other of the wonderful creatures of fairy-world. It stood
in the corner of the living-room, where Mari's mother worked all day,
and where the family ate and sat. It was so high that even grown people
did not get into it without climbing up the steps at one side. It had a
wooden top, which made it seem like a little house. It was not as long
as bedsteads in other countries. No grown person could stretch out in it
to his full length. He must bend his knees, or curl himself up in some
way, for he certainly could not push his feet through the heavy wooden
foot-board.
Mari's people, however, never thought of its being uncomfortable. All
Norwegian bedsteads are made in this way, so they became used to it as
they grew up. But sometimes English travellers had stayed at the
farmhouse all night when they had been overtaken by a storm. They would
be sure to get up in the morning complaining. They would say:
"O yes, this country of Norway is very beautiful, but why don't you have
beds long enough for people to sleep in with comfort."
The farm where Mari lives lies in a narrow valley half a mile from the
sea. The cold winter winds are kept off by the mountain which stands
behind the houses. No one but Mari's family and the servants who work on
the farm live here. Yet I spoke of houses. This is because the little
girl's home is made up of several different houses, instead of one large
farmhouse, such as one sees in America.
Mari's father thinks that two, or perhaps three, rooms are quite enough
to build under one roof. He settled here when he was a young man. Mari's
mother came here to live when they were married. At that time there was
but one house. It contained the living-room and the storeroom. After a
while another house was built close by, for the farm hands to sleep in.
Still another little building was added after a while for the winter's
supplies, for there is no store within many miles of the farm.
Mari's mother never says, "Come, my child, run down the road and buy me
five pounds of sugar," or, "Hurry, dear, go and get two pounds of steak
for dinner." It would be useless for her to think of doing such a thing.
All the provisions the family may need must be obtained in large
quantities from the distant city, unless they are raised here on the
farm.
The storehouse was built very carefully. It was raised higher than the
other buildings so that rats and other wild creatures should have hard
work to reach the supplies. There is not a great deal on hand now, for
it is summer-time, but in the autumn the bins will be full of
vegetables, and large quantities of fish and meats will hang from the
rafters. There will be stores of butter and cheese and a large supply of
coffee, for Mari's people drink it freely.