Then Greta remembered that she had not looked in the garden. Maybe the kittens were out there playing, and the Nisser hadn't taken them at all. Joyously she ran across the courtyard, with Chouse close at her heels. Chouse thought his little mistress was going to play with him again, as she used to do, so he ran on ahead of her and hid under a peony bush. He lay there without making a sound, waiting for Greta to find him. But Greta paid no attention to the little wire-haired terrier. [Illustration: THE ROAD TO SCHOOL] She walked slowly up and down the garden paths, looking carefully to the right and left. Then she began to look under the rose bushes and the peony bushes and the big clumps of iris. After a while Chouse came out from his hiding place and followed his young mistress all around the garden. It was no use trying to get her to play with him. It took a long time for Greta to search the entire garden. Every home in Denmark has a flower garden, and this was one of the largest and prettiest for miles around. Greta looked under every inch of the thick hedge that surrounded the garden. She looked all through the bed of marigolds and the bed of poppies and the bed of tulips. By this time Chouse seemed to know that she was searching for something and he tried to help her. He began poking into all the flower beds himself. While they were in the midst of their search, old Peter, the gardener, came along and stopped to watch them. "Chouse, you naughty dog, get out of the flower beds!" Old Peter was angry. He had worked very hard all spring to make the garden beautiful. For many hours he had raked and hoed and watered the flower beds. And now, in ten minutes, this naughty Chouse had undone all his work. [Illustration: CHOUSE] "Oh, Peter, I've lost my kittens and Chouse is helping me look for them. Please don't scold him." If Peter complained about Chouse, then her pet surely would be sent away, thought Greta. "Lost your kittens, Greta? Well, now, that's too bad. Maybe I can help you find them." So old Peter took his hoe and he started poking among the flower beds, too. He poked and he poked, but not a kitten did he find. Greta got down on her hands and knees and looked and looked, but not a kitten did she find. And Chouse poked and scratched and dug up the earth, but not a kitten did he find. The kittens just weren't there. Every evening, between nine and ten o'clock, the family gathered in the living room for coffee. This was an old, old custom in Denmark, where the people like coffee better than any other drink. Greta was usually in bed by nine o'clock, but since there was no school the next day, her mother let her stay up with the rest of the family. Instead of coffee, Greta had a bowl of strawberries and cream. They were large, sweet berries, fresh from the strawberry patch on the farm. June was the strawberry month in Denmark. They seemed to grow everywhere, and everyone ate them, three or four times a day.