trolls coming. They had a fiddler with them, and some began dancing, while others fell to eating the Christmas fare on the table,—some fried bacon, and some fried frogs and toads, and other nasty things which they had brought with them. During this some of the trolls found the shoe Peter had made. They thought it must belong to a very big foot. They all wanted to try it on at once, so they put a foot each into it; but Peter made haste and tightened the rope, took one of the handspikes and fastened the rope around it, and got them at last securely tied up in the shoe.

"Just then the bear put his nose out from behind the fireplace, where he was lying, and smelt they were frying something.

"'Will you have a sausage, pussy?' said one of the trolls, and threw a hot frog right into the bear's jaws.

"'Scratch them, pussy!' said Peter.

"The bear got so angry that he rushed at the trolls and scratched them all over, while Peter took the other handspike and hammered away at them as if he wanted to beat their brains out. The trolls had to clear out at last, but Peter stayed and enjoyed himself with all the Christmas fare the whole week. After that the trolls were not heard of there for many years.

"Some years afterwards, about Christmas time, Peter was out in the forest cutting wood for the holidays, when a troll came up to him and shouted,—

"'Have you got that big pussy of yours, yet?'

"'Oh, yes! she is at home behind the fireplace,' said he; 'and she has got seven kittens, all bigger and larger than herself.'

"'We'll never come to you any more, then,' said the troll, and they never did."

The children were all delighted with this story.

"Tell us another, dear Lieutenant," they all shouted in chorus.

"No, no, children! you bother the Lieutenant too much," said Miss Cicely. "Aunt Mette will tell you a story now."

"Yes, do, auntie, do!" was the general cry.

"I don't know exactly what I shall tell you," said Aunt Mette, "but since we have commenced telling about the brownies, I think I will tell you something about them, too. You remember, of course, old Kari Gausdal, who came here and baked bread, and who always had so many tales to tell you."

"Oh, yes, yes!" shouted the children.

"Well, old Kari told me that she was in service at the orphan asylum some years ago, and at that time it was still more dreary and lonely in that part of the town than it is now. That asylum is a dark and dismal place, I can tell you. Well, when Kari came there she was cook, and a very smart and clever girl she was. She had, one day, to get up very early in the morning to brew, when the other servants said to her,—

"'You had better mind you don't get up too early, and you mustn't put any fire under the copper before two o'clock.'

"'Why?' she asked.

"'Don't you know there is a brownie here? And you ought to know that those people don't like to be disturbed so early,' they said; 'and before two o'clock you mustn't light the fire by any means.'

"'Is that all?' said Kari. She was anything but chicken-hearted. 'I have nothing to do with that brownie of yours, but if he comes in my way, why, by my faith, I will send him head over heels through the door.'

"The others warned her, but she did not care a bit, and next morning, just as the clock struck one, she got up and lighted the fire under the copper in the brewhouse; but the fire went out in a