tightly closed, and both little chins were tucked under the warm blanket.

There is always great rejoicing over the coming of new babies in any
family; but there was twice as much rejoicing as usual over these babies,
and that was because they were twins.

Little Ebba Jorn and her brother Nils came with their mother, from the
farm across the lake, to see the blue-eyed babies in the worn blue
cradle; and after them came all the other neighbors, so that there was
always some one in the big chair beside the cradle, gazing admiringly at
the twins.

It was in March that they were born,--bleak March, when snow covered the
ground and the wind whistled down the broad chimney; when the days were
cold and the nights colder; when the frost giants drove their horses, the
fleet frost-winds, through the valleys, and cast their spell over lakes
and rivers.

April came, and then May. The sun god drove the frost giants back into
their dark caves, the trees shook out their tender, green leaves, and
flowers blossomed in the meadows. But still the tall clock ticked away
the days, and still they questioned, "What shall we name the babies?"

"Karen is a pretty name," suggested little Ebba Jorn, who had come again
to see the twins, this time with a gift of two tiny knitted caps.

"My father's name is Oscar," said Nils. "That is a good name for a boy."

"It is always hard to find just the right name for a new baby," said
Grandmother Ekman.