"And the task is twice as hard when there are two babies," added the
proud father, laying his hand gently upon one small round head.

"Let us name the boy 'Birger' for your father," suggested his wife,
kneeling beside the cradle; "and call the girl 'Anna' for your mother."

But Grandmother Ekman shook her head. "No, no!" she said decidedly. "Call
the boy 'Birger' if you will; but 'Anna' is not the right name for the
girl."

Anders Ekman took his hand from the baby's head to put it upon his wife's
shoulder. "Here in Dalarne we have always liked your own name, Kerstin,"
he said with a smile.

"No maid by the name of Kerstin was ever handy with her needle," she
objected. "It has always been a great trial to your mother that I have
not the patience to stitch endless seams and make rainbow skirts. Our son
shall be Birger; but we must think of a better name for the little
daughter."

"It is plain that we shall never find two names to suit everyone,"
replied the father, laughing so heartily that both babies opened their
big blue eyes and puckered up their lips for a good cry.

"Hush, Birger! Hush, little daughter!" whispered their mother; and she
rocked the cradle gently, singing softly:--

"Hist, hist!
Mother is crooning and babies list.