"Ja så! Yes, of course! That is good!" they all cried; and while Gerda
ran to get pen and ink, the boys and girls gathered around a table that
stood in the center of the room.

"Dear Yunker Unknown:--" began a mischievous-looking boy, pretending to
write with a great flourish.

"Nonsense!" cried Sigrid Lundgren. "The box is filled with skirts and
aprons and caps and embroidered belts, and all sorts of things for a
girl. Don't call her Yunker. Yunker means farmer."

"Well, then, 'Dear Jungfru Unknown:--'" the boy corrected, with more
flourishes.

"I wish we knew who would get the box, then we should know just what to
say," said little Hilma Berling.

"She is probably just your age, and is named Selma," said Birger; and
everyone laughed over his choice of a name.

"Yes," agreed Oscar, "and she lives in the depths of the white northern
forests, with only a white polar bear and a white snowy owl for company."

"I don't believe we shall ever be able to write a letter," said Birger,
shaking his head. "How can we write to some one we have never seen?" and
he sat himself down on a red painted cricket beside the tall stove and
began carving the cover of the work-box.

"We have made all the little gifts in that box for some one we have never