Gerda in Sweden | Page 4

the light from the setting sun.
"I wanted to send this work-box, too," added Birger; "but how can I
carve an initial on the cover when I don't know who is going to have

the box?"
"Carve an 'F' for friend," suggested Gerda, stopping to thread her
needle; but just then there was a sound of chattering voices on the stairs,
and work-box and needle-book were forgotten.
As Birger sprang to open the door, a little mob of happy boys and girls
burst into the room with a shout of heartiest greeting. Their eyes were
sparkling with fun, their cheeks rosy from a run in the fresh spring air,
and their arms were filled with bundles of all sizes and shapes.
"Ho, Birger! Oh, Gerda!" was their cry; "it took us an endless time to
get past the porter's wife at the street door, and she made us answer a
dozen questions. 'To what apartment were we going? Whom did we
wish to see? Why did we all come together?'"
"And did you tell her that you were coming to the third apartment to
see the Ekman twins, and were bringing clothing and gifts to fill a
surprise box?" asked Gerda, holding up her apron for the packages.
"Yes," replied a jolly, round-faced boy whom the others called Oscar,
"and we had to explain that we didn't know who was to have the box,
nor why you telephoned to us to bring the gifts to-night, when you said
only last week that you wouldn't want them until the first of June."
"There has been a hard storm on the northern coast, and Father is going
by train as far as Luleå, to see if it did much damage to the
lighthouses," Gerda explained. "He thinks that the storm may have
caused great suffering among the poor people, so we are going to send
our box with him, instead of waiting to send it by boat in June. He has
to start on his trip very early in the morning, so the box must be ready
to-night."
Everyone began talking at once, and a tall girl with pretty curly hair,
who had something important to say, had to raise her voice above the
din before she could be heard. "Let us write a letter and put it into the
box with the gifts," she suggested.

"Ja så! Yes, of course! That is good!" they all cried; and while Gerda
ran to get pen and ink, the boys and girls gathered around a table that
stood in the center of the room.
"Dear Yunker Unknown:--" began a mischievous-looking boy,
pretending to write with a great flourish.
"Nonsense!" cried Sigrid Lundgren. "The box is filled with skirts and
aprons and caps and embroidered belts, and all sorts of things for a girl.
Don't call her Yunker. Yunker means farmer."
"Well, then, 'Dear Jungfru Unknown:--'" the boy corrected, with more
flourishes.
"I wish we knew who would get the box, then we should know just
what to say," said little Hilma Berling.
"She is probably just your age, and is named Selma," said Birger; and
everyone laughed over his choice of a name.
"Yes," agreed Oscar, "and she lives in the depths of the white northern
forests, with only a white polar bear and a white snowy owl for
company."
"I don't believe we shall ever be able to write a letter," said Birger,
shaking his head. "How can we write to some one we have never
seen?" and he sat himself down on a red painted cricket beside the tall
stove and began carving the cover of the work-box.
"We have made all the little gifts in that box for some one we have
never seen," said Sigrid. "It ought to be just as easy to write her a
letter."
"No, Sigrid," Birger told her; "it is the hardest thing in the world to
write a letter, especially if you have nothing to say. I would rather make
a box and carve it, than write half of a letter."
"Here comes Mother. She will tell us what to write," said Gerda.

"Why not write about some of the good times you have together here in
Stockholm," suggested her mother, and she took up the pen and waited
for some one to start the letter.
"Our dear Girl-friend in the North:--" said Hilma for a beginning; and
as Fru Ekman wrote at their dictation, first one and then another added
a message, until finally she leaned back in her chair and told them to
listen to what she had written.
* * * * *
"We are a club of capital boys and girls because we live in Sweden's
capital city," she began.
"That was from Oscar," interrupted Gerda; but her mother
continued,--"and we send you this