XV. THE MIDSUMMER FESTIVAL




GERDA IN SWEDEN




CHAPTER I

GERDA AND BIRGER


If any one had stopped to think of it, the ticking of the tall clock that
stood against the wall sounded like "Ger-da! Ger-da!"

But no one did stop to think of it. Everyone was far too busy to think
about the clock and what it was saying, for over in the corner beside the
tall stove stood a wooden cradle, and in the cradle were two tiny babies.

There they lay, side by side, in the same blue-painted cradle that had
rocked the Ekman babies for over two hundred years; and one looked so
exactly like the other that even dear Grandmother Ekman could not tell
them apart.

But the mother, who rocked them so gently and watched them so tenderly,
touched one soft cheek and then another, saying proudly, "This is our
son, and this is our daughter," even when both pairs of blue eyes were