"You shall keep the little goat," said Ovind, and turned away. "Be quick!" said the grandfather up from the hill. Marit rose and walked slowly on. "You've forgotten your garter," cried Ovind. She turned herself, looked first on the garter and then on him, and at last mumbled--"You can keep that." He went and took her by the hand,--"Thank you!" he said. "Oh, nothing to thank me for," she replied, heaved a deep sigh, and went away. But Ovind wasn't so happy with the goat as he had been before. CHAP. II. AT SCHOOL. By the cottage side the goat was tethered, but Ovind was looking up towards the hill. His mother came and sat by him; he wished to hear stories about things far away, for the goat could no longer satisfy him. So he was told how once all things could speak,--the mountain spoke to the brook, and the brook to the river, and the river to the sea, and the sea to the sky; but then he asked if the sky spoke to nothing,--yes, the sky spoke to the clouds, and the clouds to the trees, and the trees to the grass, and the grass to the flies, and the flies to the animals, and the animals to children, and children to old people, and so it went again and again, and round and round, and no one knew who began. Ovind looked on the mountain, the trees, the sea, and the sky, and had in reality never seen them before. The cat came out and laid herself on the doorstep in the sun. "What does pussy say?" said Ovind, and pointed. The mother sang: "Softly the sun sheds his evening rays, Idly the cat on the doorstep lays. 'Two little wee mice, Some cream from a cup, And a dainty fish slice Have I eaten up,-- And I feel too lazy to stir, I can only sit here and purr,' Says the cat." The cock with all his hens passed by. "What does the cock say?" asked Ovind, and clapped his hands. The mother sang: "Kindly the hen-mother spreads out her wings, Proudly the cock stands on one leg and sings,-- 'Up in the air with plumage grey, The wild goose swiftly his course may steer, But, in intellect tell me I pray Can he ever match with Sir Chanticleer! Come, come my hens, to rest, to rest-- Soon will the sun sink down in the west,' Says the cock." Two little birds sat and sang up on the roof. "What do the little birds say?" asked Ovind, and laughed. "'Oh! how pleasant and sweet is life Free from the turmoil of constant strife,' Say the little birds." And so he got to hear what all things said, even down to the ant that crept through the moss, and the worm that bored in the bark.