"One queen is as good as another," said Nils Jorn cheerfully; so they led Karen back to the May-pole and she was made queen of the festival and crowned with green leaves. After a few minutes Gerda found a seat beside her under the canopy of birch boughs, and the two little girls watched the dancing together. Everyone was happy and jolly. The fiddler swept his bow across the strings until they sang their gayest polka. The accordion puffed and wheezed in its attempt to follow the merry tune. The platform was crowded with dancers, whirling and stamping, turning and swinging, laughing and singing. The tall pole quivered and shook until all the streamers rustled, all the flags fluttered, and all the birch leaves murmured to each other that summer had come and the sun god had conquered the frost giants. "This is truly the happiest day of all my life," Karen said; "and it is you, Gerda, who have made it so. I was lame and lonely in the cold Northland, and you came, bringing me health and happiness." "Mother says I must never forget that I was named for the goddess who shed light and sunshine over the world," replied Gerda soberly. Then she drew her friend closer and whispered, "But think, Karen, of all the good times we shall have next year, when you can go to school with me, and we can share all our happiness with each other;" and she clapped her hands and whirled Karen off into the crowd of dancers,--the gayest and happiest of them all. End of Project Gutenberg's Gerda in Sweden, by Etta Blaisdell McDonald