Greta was up earlier than ever the next morning. Maybe the Nisser had decided not to punish her after all. Maybe the mysterious little creatures would bring her kittens back. So Greta dashed out to the barn to look. But the bed of straw was still empty.

All day long there was sadness in her heart. The other children at school were very gay, for this was the last day of school. There was much singing and there were many games. There was more singing and games and laughter than there were lessons. But Greta was not gay. She kept thinking of her lost kittens, and every now and then there was the awful fear that she might lose Chouse, too.

She hurried home from school even faster than the day before. Chouse had to run, run, run to keep up with her bicycle. He barked and barked, as if he wanted to say, "Greta, don't go so fast." But Greta kept right on going. Nothing could stop her. She rode right up to the barn door and ran inside. Maybe the kittens had come back. But no, the bed of straw was empty.

Then Greta remembered that she had not looked in the garden. Maybe the kittens were out there playing, and the Nisser hadn't taken them at all. Joyously she ran across the courtyard, with Chouse close at her heels. Chouse thought his little mistress was going to play with him again, as she used to do, so he ran on ahead of her and hid under a peony bush. He lay there without making a sound, waiting for Greta to find him. But Greta paid no attention to the little wire-haired terrier.

She walked slowly up and down the garden paths, looking carefully to the right and left. Then she began to look under the rose bushes and the peony bushes and the big clumps of iris. After a while Chouse came out from his hiding place and followed his young mistress all around the garden. It was no use trying to get her to play with him.

It took a long time for Greta to search the entire garden. Every home in Denmark has a flower garden, and this was one of the largest and prettiest for miles around. Greta looked under every inch of the thick hedge that surrounded the garden. She looked all through the bed of marigolds and the bed of poppies and the bed of tulips. By this time Chouse seemed to know that she was searching for something and he tried to help her. He began poking into all the flower beds himself. While they were in the midst of their search, old Peter, the gardener, came along and stopped to watch them.

"Chouse, you naughty dog, get out of the flower beds!" Old Peter was angry. He had worked very hard all spring to make the garden beautiful. For many hours he had raked and hoed and watered the flower beds. And now, in ten minutes, this naughty Chouse had undone all his work.

"Oh, Peter, I've lost my kittens and Chouse is helping me look for them. Please don't scold him." If Peter complained about Chouse, then her pet surely would be sent away, thought Greta.

"Lost your kittens, Greta? Well, now, that's too bad. Maybe I can help you find them."

So old Peter took his hoe and he started poking among the flower beds, too. He poked and he poked, but not a kitten did he find. Greta got down on her hands and knees and looked and looked, but not a kitten did she find. And Chouse poked and scratched and dug up the earth, but not a kitten did he find. The kittens just weren't there.

Every evening, between nine and ten o'clock, the family gathered in the living room for coffee. This was an old, old custom in Denmark, where the people like coffee better than any other drink. Greta was usually in bed by nine o'clock, but since there was no school the next day, her mother let her stay up with the rest of the family. Instead of coffee, Greta had a bowl of strawberries and cream. They were large, sweet berries, fresh from the strawberry patch on the farm. June was the strawberry month in Denmark. They seemed to grow everywhere, and everyone ate them, three or four times a day.

Greta said hardly a word all evening. She was afraid to ask her father what he was going to do with Chouse. Maybe he would forget the whole matter if nothing were said about it. And she didn't mention the kittens, for that would bring up the subject of Chouse.

Greta's mother noticed that the little girl was unusually quiet.

"Greta, how would you like to have Anna come and visit you this summer?" her mother asked.

"Oh, Mother, that would be wonderful." Greta's face was one big smile. Anna was her cousin, and she lived in Copenhagen. Four years ago she had spent the summer on the farm with Greta and Hans, and the three children had had fun together all summer long.

"You can write her in the morning and invite her to visit you."

Greta ran across the room to her mother and gave her a big hug. "Oh, Mother, you are so sweet!"

Greta's mother smiled. She understood little girls. She knew that Greta had been sad, and she wanted to make her happy.

"I guess Anna is quite a big girl by now, Greta. Let's see. She must be thirteen years old."

"Do you suppose she will act like a young lady? Or will she want to play with me?"

"Her mother says she is quite a tomboy, so I'm sure she will want to play with you."

"Shall I ask her to bring her bicycle?" After her family and her dog and her kittens, Greta liked her bicycle better than anything else in the world. She knew that she wouldn't want to leave her bicycle at home if she went away for the summer. So surely Anna would like to bring hers along.

"She doesn't need to bring her bicycle, Greta," said Hans. "She can use mine."

"Yes, I think that will be best, Greta," said her mother.

"And I'll let her use my new boat, too," added the boy.

"Why, Hans, you won't let me use your boat."

"But you are only ten, and Anna is thirteen," argued Hans.

"Even if I am only ten, I can paddle a boat."

"Time for bed now, Greta," reminded her mother. She didn't want the day to end in a quarrel.

"I'll get up early, Mother, and write Anna the very first thing."

Greta kissed her mother and father good night and started to bed. Her own little room was just across the hall from the living room. The dining room, the living room, and three of the bedrooms were on the second floor of the house. On the first floor there was the kitchen, the maids' rooms, and the large office for Greta's father. Greta liked her little room, and she especially liked the balcony that was just outside her room. It was a small balcony looking out over the courtyard. It was fun to play on this balcony and to pretend that she was an actress bowing to a large crowd of people.

Just as she was ready to jump into bed, Greta heard a scratching sound on her door. It was Chouse, who felt very much neglected because Greta had forgotten to pat him good night. This was the first time she had forgotten it, but Chouse hadn't forgotten. So there he was.

Greta hugged him tight. "Oh, Chouse, I can't let Father send you away. Whatever would I do without you? Even if you did hide my kittens, I don't want to lose you. And you will be a good dog, won't you?"

Chouse barked once, which meant "Yes," and Greta hugged him again, just for luck.