THE CHRISTENING
"O MOTHER, I have something to tell you. I have just been down to the
village, and I heard there that neighbour Hans's wife has a new baby. It
is a boy. Every one says he is a fine little fellow," said Mari, one
beautiful afternoon.
"Dear me! dear me! that is fine news, truly," said her mother. "I must
make her a dish of my best porridge and take it to her in the morning."
"Did everybody remember you when I was born, mother?"
"Yes, dear, the people of the village seemed to vie with each other in
preparing a dish of flödegrod. It did taste so good! It was hard to tell
whose was the best. You must learn how to make this cream porridge now,
Mari; you are quite old enough. You will never be thought a good
housekeeper if you cannot make smooth flödegrod."
"The baby is to be christened next week. Everybody will be there, of
course, mother."
The farm was only half a mile from a little fishing village on the shore
of a deep bay. Such a long, narrow bay is called a fiord. There are many
fiords in Norway.
There were only about a dozen cottages in the village, but in their
midst was a tiny little church and a small building used as the
schoolhouse. But school was not kept there all the year round. Half of
the time the master taught in this place, and the rest of the year he
spent in another little village a few miles up the coast. Neither of
them was large enough to pay for a teacher the whole year round. The
children, however, were glad to work hard while he was among them. They
loved their teacher and their school, and they learned quickly.
Every one in the place was busy now, getting ready for the christening.
At last came the great day, as bright and sunny a one as could be
wished.
All the work on the farm was stopped and every one in the family was
dressed in his best. Mari had a fresh white linen kerchief tied under
her chin, and also a finely starched apron. Her plump little arms were
bare. Her stomacher was worked with bright beads on scarlet cloth. She
had embroidered it all herself and she could not help being proud of it.
But perhaps you do not know what a stomacher is. It is a piece of cloth
worn as an ornament on the waist and over the stomach. Mari's mother
wore one also, but hers was sparkling with silver trimmings that had
belonged to her great-grandmother.
How fine the father looked in his short coat and knee-breeches. He wore
a bright red vest, over which hung his long light beard.
But Mari's mother was the prettiest sight of all. Her muslin apron was
trimmed with three rows of lovely open-work. Her scarlet waist was
finished with bands of black velvet, with the beautiful stomacher in
front of that. She had loose white linen sleeves, and such an odd cap.
You never saw one like it, I am sure. It was made of crimped white
muslin with a wide rim over the forehead, with a narrow band beneath
that hid her hair. The corners fell down behind nearly to the waist.
Her silver ornaments must also be mentioned. They were really beautiful,
and were hundreds of years old.
[Illustration: THE CHRISTENING.]
Ole looked fine, too, in a suit much like his father's and a little
round cap, fitting tightly to his head. You would scarcely have known
the family in their holiday dress.
They stepped off gaily, and soon reached the village. They arrived at
the church just as the christening party reached it.
"Do look at the dear baby, Ole," said Mari. "Isn't he lovely?"
The nurse was carrying him. He was so swaddled in his fine clothes that
you would have almost thought he was an Indian pappoose. Only his face
could be seen. The swaddling bands were of many colours,--red, green,
and white, and there was a large white satin bow, of course. Every Norse
baby wears such a bow to its christening.
And now the flock of people followed the minister into the little
church. They passed up to the front and gathered around the altar.
"The baby behaves finely, doesn't he?" whispered Ole. "I am real proud
of him because he is to have the same name as myself. Did you hear the
minister say _Ole_, Mari?"
"Yes, but look now. The baby's father and mother and his godparents are
all going up behind the altar. What is that for?"
"They are laying presents there for the minister. Of course they want to
thank him for the christening. I declare, Mari, our baby was christened
only last year, and you have forgotten what people do at such times."
"I was so excited then, Ole, I don't believe I noticed it. But come,
everybody is going out of the church. Now we shall have the best time,
for you know we are invited to the party."
The building was soon empty, and all the people started gaily for the
home of the new baby. The minister went with them, of course. He looked
very dignified in his long black gown, with a great white ruff about his
neck. He loved his people, and took part in all their merry-makings. Ole
and Mari were very fond of him. They ran to his side as soon as they
got outdoors. Ole took one hand and Mari the other.
It was only a few steps to the little home of the fisherman. Everything
had been made ready for the company. The table was spread with the good
things that the Norse people love best.
In the centre of the table stood the old silver bowl from which every
one must drink to the health of the new baby. This bowl was the most
precious thing in the simple home. It had not been used before since the
parents of the baby came here and held their wedding-feast.
There is much eating, and frequent handshaking. It seemed as though the
company could only show how loving they felt toward one another by the
hearty shakes which they gave so often.
When every one had eaten so much that he could hold no more with
comfort, the table was quickly cleared, and a young man brought out a
fiddle from the corner of the room.
"Now for some of our Norse songs," cried one of the company.
"Good, good," cried all, and soon the room was filled with lively music.
The new baby behaved very well, and went to sleep in the midst of it.
But Mari's baby brother, who had come to the party with the rest of the
family, was having too good a time to shut his eyes for a moment. It was
not until the dancing began that his little head commenced to nod and
his eyes could keep open no longer.
The older folk and children sat against the wall and talked together
while the younger people waltzed around the room.
"Gustav, we want to see you and Frigga in the Spring Dance," said one of
the party after a while.
"O yes, Gustav, you can both do it so well," cried another. "We must
see it before we go home."
Gustav stepped out into the middle of the room and was followed by the
young girl whom he was soon to marry. Her cheeks grew rosy as every one
looked at her. She was a pretty girl, and her long, fair braids reached
way below her waist.
And now the fiddler started up again with a lively tune. Who could keep
still now? Surely Gustav could not. He took hold of one of Frigga's
hands, and away they spun around the room. But it was not a simple waltz
such as you have seen. The young girl held her other hand above her head
and showed her grace as she kept moving around Gustav; she kept perfect
time and step as she did so.
Other odd dances followed the Spring Dance. Ole's and Mari's eyes were
wide open with delight as they watched their older friends. Whenever
one of the dances came to an end, there was a general shaking of hands
in which the children joined with a right good will.
The time to go home came all too soon. But as it was near the middle of
summer, it was not dark even now at ten o'clock in the evening.
"Gud nag, gud nag," cried every one, after they had drunk again to the
health of the baby and his proud parents, and the hands of all had been
heartily shaken once more.