some grand natural scenes. I often climb up on the hills, and sit and
look over the pines and the shining lake down towards home. Then,
sometimes, I can see the ocean like a silver ribbon, lying on the
horizon. I sit up there and gaze and think, as Hansine says, nearly all
night. I seem to be under a spell. You know it doesn't get dark all
night now, and the air is so delicious. My thoughts go out 'Over the
high mountains,' as Bjornson says, and I want to be away to hear and see
what the world is and has to tell me. A kind of sweet loneliness comes
over me which I cannot explain."

Hr. Bogstad had finished his dish. He, too, was under a spell--the spell
of a soft, musical voice.

"Then the light in the summer," she continued. "How I have wished to go
north where the sun shines the whole twenty-four hours. Have you ever
seen the Midnight Sun, Hr. Bogstad?"

"No; but I have been thinking of taking a trip up there this summer, if
I can get some good company to go with me. Wouldn't you--"

It was then that Signe hurriedly pushed her chair away and said: "Thanks
for the food."

Next morning Signe was very busy. She washed the wooden milk basins,
scalded them with juniper tea, and then scoured them with sand. She
churned the butter and wanted to help with the cheese, but Hansine
thought that she was not paying enough attention to their visitor, so
she ordered her off to her lookout on the mountain. Hr. Bogstad would
help her up the steep places; besides, he could tell her the names of
the ferns and flowers, and answer the thousand and one questions which