Mari, Our Little Norwegian Cousin

"Come, Mari, my little daughter, and you shall help me make the cakes," called her mother. Mari stood in the middle of the big farm-yard with a flock of hens around her. She was scattering grain among them from a big bag on her arm; not a sound could be heard except once in a while the scratching of the hens' feet. They were too busy to notice each other or the big dog that sat on the door-step.