streaks that were rippled, and the sunlight rested on the smooth
places and quivered in the ripples. It captured one's eye and drew it
across its surface, carried it along the shores, past slowly rounded
curves, past abruptly broken lines, and made it swing around the green
tongues of land; then it let go of one's glance and disappeared in
large bays, but it carried along the thought--Oh, to sail! Would it be
possible to hire boats here?

No, there were none, said a little fellow, who lived in the white
country-house near by, and stood at the shore skipping stones over the
surface of the water. Were there really no boats at all?

Yes, of course, there were some; there was the miller's, but it could
not be had; the miller would not permit it. Niels, the miller's son,
had nearly gotten a spanking when he had let it out the other day. It
was useless to think about it; but then there was the gentleman, who
lived with Nicolai, the forest-warden. He had a fine boat, one which
was black at the top and red at the bottom, and he lent it to each and
every one.

The councilor and his daughter went up to Nicolai's, the
forest-warden. At a short distance from the house they met a little
girl. She was Nicolai's, and they told her to run in and ask if they
might see the gentleman. She ran as if her life depended on it, ran
with both arms and legs, until she reached the door; there she placed
one leg on the high doorstep, fastened her garter, and then rushed
into the house. She reappeared immediately afterwards with two doors
ajar behind her and called long before she reached the threshold, that
the gentleman would be there in a moment; then she sat down on the
doorstep, leaned against the wall, and peered at the strangers from