Through the entrance gate, they passed into a grove of pines and birches, with winding roads. Among the trees were many wild animals in pens, and queer houses and buildings, such as the children had never seen in the city or at grandmother's. Every few steps, they met a soldier with a helmet and shield, or a brightly dressed peasant. You would think you had come to a foreign country, and so did Sigrid. As they turned a bend in the road, they saw a low cottage of hewn timber. It was painted red and had a hood over the door. In the yard was a wagon that might have been made by sawing a huge wooden cask from top to bottom, and then placing one half on wheels. "I never saw such a funny cart," said Anders. "It is odd," replied his father. "A long time ago, people used to ride in a wagon like that. Suppose we go over and look at that house." "You don't know the people who live there, do you, father?" enquired Sigrid. "No, my daughter," he replied. "But all these people are accustomed to visitors. You see, a few years ago, there lived a wise man named Artur Hazelius, who loved his country very dearly. He travelled from the fjelds and glaciers where the Lapps live to the fertile fields of Skäne, in the south. "Something troubled him very much. He cared a great deal for the queer old homes which he saw in out-of-the-way villages. No one makes such houses to-day. He knew they would soon be destroyed. Then he was sorry that only a few peasants still wear their old gay costumes. "So he said to himself, 'I will go to the king and ask him to give me a large park. There I will fetch some of these houses. Our children will not have to read in books about the way their great-grandfathers lived. They shall visit the very houses they lived in.'" "How could he bring a whole house here?" asked Erik. "That was hard sometimes," Major Lund replied. "Often they pulled down a house, brought the timber here, and set it up as it was before. Then he had people come here and wear the same clothes and live in the same way they did in the olden times. Nowhere in the world is there a park like this." "See that little girl with a kerchief over her head, peeping at us from the window," said Anders. A moment later, a smiling peasant woman came to the door. She made a curtsey and invited them to enter. "Why, I can scarcely see at all," said Sigrid. The big living-room was lighted by the tiniest little window. The two sleeping-rooms were also as dark as your pocket, and very small. Hemlock tips were strewn over the clean floor. From the ceiling hung a pole of flat rye bread. "You dear baby!" exclaimed Sigrid's mother, for she had discovered a small canvas hammock hung in a dark corner. The baby was asleep in its hanging nest. "She is a very good child and lies there all day by herself," said the baby's mother.