Mari, Our Little Norwegian Cousin. Wade Mary Hazelton Blanchard

his father felt that he could be trusted to care for the cows as well as he could do it himself; while Gretel could make good cheese and butter, although she was only thirteen. This boy and girl were now living together all alone up on the mountain-side, but they were not the least bit lonely.

      Every Saturday afternoon Henrik brought down the butter and cheese his sister had made during the week. He had so many stories to tell of their good times, that Mari would say:

      "Oh, dear! Henrik, I wish I could go back with you."

      "I wish you could, little sister, but mother must not be left alone, you know." And Henrik would put his arms around her and kiss her lovingly.

      "Where is Ole?" asked the farmer, as the family finished eating their dinner. "He should not be late to meals and give you trouble, good wife."

      "He went up to the river on a fishing trip. I told him I should not scold if he was late this time," said his mother. "I was glad of the thought of having some fresh salmon."

      "Very well, then. But come, my men, we must get back to the field now. The noon hour has passed." And the farmer led the way out of the house.

      But before he rose from the table little Mari said:

      "Thanks for the food, dear father and mother," while she went first to one, then the other, and gave each of them a loving kiss.

      Then the workmen rose and went in turn to the farmer and his wife and shook hands, to show they, too, were thankful.

      It was very pleasant and cheerful in this farmer's house, you can plainly see; and it was all quite natural for these simple country people to show how kindly they felt for each other.

      "There comes Ole, now," said the farmer's wife. "I can hear his call. Run, Mari, and see if he has met with good fortune."

      "O, mother, mother, see what I have here," cried Mari, a few moments afterward. "Ole has a fine string of fish, and that will please you, I know. But do look at this young magpie. It was snared in his trap while he was fishing. He says I may have it for my very own. May I keep it, please?"

      "It seems as though you had enough pets now, Mari. You have your own pony and your dog Kyle. But I hate to refuse you, my dear. Yes, you may have it, but you and Ole must keep it out of mischief. Magpies are sometimes very troublesome birds, for they notice shining objects and carry them off if they get a chance."

      Mari's mother now turned to the string of trout which she hastened to put away in the storeroom. Ole had cleaned them nicely before he brought them home. He now ate his dinner as quickly as possible, after which he and his sister went out into the yard to make a cage for their new pet.

      "In a little while he will get tame so he will follow us around," said Ole, as he cut the wooden bars for the cage. "Then we shall need to shut him up only when we wish."

      "Isn't he a beauty," exclaimed Mari, as she stroked the magpie. "Look, Ole, at the green and purple feathers in his wings and tail. They are very handsome and glossy."

      "Be careful, Mari, or he may bite you. That hooked bill of his is pretty sharp, if he is a young bird. See him look at you with his bright eyes. They say that magpies will grow fond of one in a very short time."

      "Did you ever see a magpie's nest, Ole?"

      "Yes, I passed one this morning as I went through the woods. It was way back in a thick bush. I crept up and looked in. The mother bird was away, and I saw five pretty green eggs dotted with little purple spots."

      "What did you do, Ole? I hope you did not touch them."

      "At first, I thought I would, Mari, because, you know, those pretty eggs will sometime hatch out, and the five magpies will fly away to harm smaller and more helpless birds. Besides, they go into the grain-fields and pick the grain. Father isn't very fond of magpies, I can tell you.