bright sun shining on the sparkling water of Lake Mälar, called to the
children that spring had come in Stockholm.

Great cakes of ice went floating through the arches of the bridge across
the Norrström, and gray gulls, sailing up from the bay, darted down to
the swirling water to find dainty morsels for their dinner.

The little steamers which had been lying idly at the quays all winter
were being scraped and painted, and made ready for their summer's work;
children were playing in the parks; throngs of people filled the
streets;--spring was in the air!

But in the Ekman household Gerda and Birger had been as busy as bees all
day, with no thought for the dancing blue water and the shining blue sky.
Their tongues had flown fast, their fingers faster; they had hunted up
old clothes, old books, old games; and had added one package after
another to the contents of a big box that stood in the corner of the
pleasant living-room.

"Perhaps I can finish this needle-book, if I hurry," said Gerda, drawing
her chair up to the window to catch the light from the setting sun.

"I wanted to send this work-box, too," added Birger; "but how can I carve
an initial on the cover when I don't know who is going to have the box?"

"Carve an 'F' for friend," suggested Gerda, stopping to thread her
needle; but just then there was a sound of chattering voices on the
stairs, and work-box and needle-book were forgotten.

As Birger sprang to open the door, a little mob of happy boys and girls