Mari's mother soon had a steaming junket ready, besides a dish of smoked salmon, plenty of boiled potatoes, a large, dark-coloured cheese which looked like soap, and last, but not least, a plate was piled high with flat-bread. "May father have the cakes I made?" asked Mari. "Sure enough, little daughter. He will eat them with pleasure, I know." In a few minutes the farmer and his helpers appeared. All gathered around the table together. "What a fine junket this is to-day," said Mari's father, as his wife helped him to another plateful. The junket was made of milk, barley, and potatoes, and was a dish of which he was very fond. "Dear me! how good the flat-bread is, too. And only to think that our little Mari made it all herself," continued the farmer. "She will soon be a woman at this rate." Mari's rosy cheeks grew redder still at her father's praise. "I shall be glad to see Gretel back again," said the little girl's mother, after a while. "I miss her very much, though Mari is a good little helper. But Gretel is having a good time with Henrik, I'm sure." Gretel and Henrik had gone up on the mountain to the summer-house, where the cows were pastured during the two warmest months of the year. Henrik was now fourteen years old, and his father felt that he could be trusted to care for the cows as well as he could do it himself; while Gretel could make good cheese and butter, although she was only thirteen. This boy and girl were now living together all alone up on the mountain-side, but they were not the least bit lonely. Every Saturday afternoon Henrik brought down the butter and cheese his sister had made during the week. He had so many stories to tell of their good times, that Mari would say: "Oh, dear! Henrik, I wish I could go back with you." "I wish you could, little sister, but mother must not be left alone, you know." And Henrik would put his arms around her and kiss her lovingly. "Where is Ole?" asked the farmer, as the family finished eating their dinner. "He should not be late to meals and give you trouble, good wife." "He went up to the river on a fishing trip. I told him I should not scold if he was late this time," said his mother. "I was glad of the thought of having some fresh salmon." "Very well, then. But come, my men, we must get back to the field now. The noon hour has passed." And the farmer led the way out of the house. But before he rose from the table little Mari said: "Thanks for the food, dear father and mother," while she went first to one, then the other, and gave each of them a loving kiss. Then the workmen rose and went in turn to the farmer and his wife and shook hands, to show they, too, were thankful. It was very pleasant and cheerful in this farmer's house, you can plainly see; and it was all quite natural for these simple country people to show how kindly they felt for each other.