It was the month of May. The clear, warm sunshine lay upon the mountain, which had turned green again. The last snows had disappeared and the sun had already coaxed many of the flowers to show their bright heads above the grass. Heidi was at home again on the mountain, running backwards and forwards in her accustomed way, not knowing which spot was most delightful. From the shed at the back came the sound of sawing and chopping, and Heidi listened to it with pleasure, for it was the old familiar sound she had known from the beginning of her life up here. Suddenly she jumped up and ran round, for she must know what her grandfather was doing. In front of the shed door already stood a finished new chair, and a second was in course of construction under the grandfather's skilful hand. "Oh, I know what these are for," exclaimed Heidi in great glee. "We shall want them when they all come from Frankfurt. This one is for grandmamma, and the one you are now making is for Clara, and then--then there will, I suppose, have to be another," continued Heidi with more hesitation in her voice, "or do you think, Grandfather, that perhaps Miss Rottermeyer will not come with them?" "Well, I cannot say just yet," replied her grandfather, "but it will be safer to make one so that we can offer her a seat if she does." While talking with the grandfather there was heard from above a whistling and calling which Heidi immediately recognized. She ran out and found herself surrounded by her four-footed friends. They were apparently as pleased as she was to be among the heights again, for they leaped about and bleated for joy. When Peter at last got up to her he handed her a letter. "There!" he exclaimed. "Did some one give you this while you were out with the goats," she asked, in her surprise. "No," was the answer. "Where did you get it from then?" "I found it in the dinner bag." Which was true to a certain extent. The letter to Heidi had been given him the evening before by the postman at Doerfli, and Peter had put it into his empty bag. That morning he had stuffed his bread and cheese on the top of it, and had forgotten it when he called for Alm-Uncle's two goats; only when he had finished his bread and cheese at mid-day and was searching in the bag for any last crumbs did he remember the letter which lay at the bottom. Heidi read the address carefully; then she ran back to the shed holding out her letter to her grandfather in high glee. "From Frankfurt! from Clara! Would you like to hear it?" The grandfather was ready and pleased to do so, as was Peter, who had followed Heidi into the shed.