In the pretty house, which has white window-frames, a neat porch
and clean steps, which are always strewn with finely-cut juniper
leaves, Walter's parents live. His brother Frederick, his sister
Lotta, old Lena, Jonah, Caro and Bravo, Putte and Murre, and
Kuckeliku.

Caro lives in the dog house, Bravo in the stable, Putte with the
stableman, Murre a little here and a little there, and Kuckeliku
lives in the hen house, that is his kingdom.

Walter is six years old, and he must soon begin to go to school.
He cannot read yet, but he can do many other things. He can turn
cartwheels, stand on his head, ride see-saw, throw snowballs,
play ball, crow like a cock, eat bread and butter and drink sour
milk, tear his trousers, wear holes in his elbows, break the
crockery in pieces, throw balls through the windowpanes, draw old
men on important papers, walk over the flower-beds, eat himself
sick with gooseberries, and be well after a whipping. For the
rest he has a good heart but a bad memory, and forgets his
father's and his mother's admonitions, and so often gets into
trouble and meets with adventures, as you shall hear, but first
of all I must tell you how brave he was and how he hunted wolves.

Once in the spring, a little before Midsummer, Walter heard that
there were a great many wolves in the wood, and that pleased him.
He was wonderfully brave when he was in the midst of his
companions or at home with his brothers and sister, then he used
often to say 'One wolf is nothing, there ought to be at least
four.'