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16 BIOGRAPHY.
Wreaths of fir in countless legions,
Wait you in your Paradise.
(Repeat the second refrain.)
Thus we greet you, Baron Wrede!
Great and powerful Lord Manorial.
Thus we greet you, Baron Wrede!
Noble baron, this our present f
Can boast of little worth, ’t is true.
Give us yet assurance pleasant,
That for our sakes ’t is dear to you.
“ Fredrikaberg ” was a stony hillock lying on the verge
of fertile meadows. Fredrika got this hillock as a present
from my father on her birthday, with full right of posses-
sion. ‘The previous year a similar hillock had been pre-
sented to me, in a place where the nature of the soil al-
lowed of laying out walks, and where my father had or-
dered a large, round, wooden seat to be constructed. This
hillock was inaugurated on my birthday by an invitation to”
several friends, who took their coffee there in the after-
noon, after which my father made a speech announcing
that this “ Property” was to be called Charlotteberg, and
should belong to his eldest daughter. I recollect well,
even now, my delight. We had some presentiment that
Fredrika, the following year, would also get such a hillock,
to be presented to her with similar solemnities.
She got the hillock; but no wooden seat, no walks, no
inauguration festival; and then, for the first time, the
thought arose within her that she was less loved.
Amongst Fredrika’s papers I found, in a very small old
copy-book, a couple of verses which had escaped the fate
‘of all her other earlier effusions, that were to be, as she
used to call it, “destroyed as contraband.” In this copy-
book are found a few verses, remarkable only for being
written by a little child, which one can see that she must
then have been, from the great difference between the
characters in which they were written and the verses
which she wrote when ten years old. One might almost
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