"Must we go indoors to write?" asked Clara. It is so much nicer out here. So Heidi ran in and brought out her school-book and writing things and her own little stool. She put her reading book and copy book on Clara's knees, to make a desk for her to write upon, and she herself took her seat on the stool by the bench, and then they both began writing to grandmamma. But Clara paused after every sentence to look about her; it was too beautiful for much letter writing. The breeze had sunk a little, and now only gently fanned her face and whispered lightly through the fir trees. Now and again the call of some shepherd-boy rang out through the air, and the echo answered softly from the rocks. Thus the morning passed, the children hardly knew how, and soon grandfather came with the mid-day bowls of steaming milk. Then Heidi pushed Clara's chair under the fir trees, where they spent the afternoon in the shade, telling each other all that had happened since last they met. So the hours flew by and all at once, as it seemed, the evening had come with the returning Peter, who still scowled and looked angry. [Illustration] "Good-night, Peter," called out Heidi, as she saw he had no intention of stopping to speak. "Good-night, Peter," called out Clara in a friendly voice. Peter took no notice and went surlily on with his goats. As Clara saw the grandfather leading away Little Swan to milk her, she was suddenly taken with a longing for another bowlful of the fragrant milk, and waited impatiently for it. "Isn't it curious, Heidi," she said, astonished at herself, "as long as I can remember I have only eaten because I was obliged to, and everything used to seem to taste of cod liver oil, and I was always wishing there was no need to eat or drink; and now I am longing for grandfather to bring me the milk." "Yes, I know what it feels like," replied Heidi, who remembered the many days in Frankfurt when all her food used to seem to stick in her throat. When grandfather at last brought the evening milk, Clara drank it up so quickly that she had emptied her bowl before Heidi, and then she asked for a little more. The grandfather went inside with both the children's bowls, and when he brought them out again full he had something else to add to their supper. He had walked over that afternoon to a herdsman's house where the sweetly-tasting butter was made, and had brought home a large pat, some of which he had now spread thickly on two good slices of bread.