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protect their pates! In almost no time the girls had
it their way; Squire Julius obligingly turned in the
direction of Dunder Cliff. Smiling, he sat on his
lunch-box while the girls crowded into the cart.
All along the road grew buttercups and daisies.
Now and then, when the ox had to rest awhile, the
girls got out and picked flowers. Gorgeous wreaths
soon circled Julius’s head and the ox’s horns.
Further on they came upon a clump of bright-leaved
young birches and a tangle of dark-leaved
alder-bushes. Here they climbed out and broke off
branches to decorate the wagon, which soon looked
like a moving grove. All was fun and play.
As the day wore on, Squire Julius brightened
and mellowed. He divided the contents of his
lunch-box among the girls, and sang for them. And when
at last they all stood at the summit of Dunder Cliff
and viewed the wide landscape lying below, so lovely
and peaceful that tears came into their eyes on
beholding its beauty, the heart of Julius began to
beat fast, and words came pouring from his mouth
as he spöke of his beloved land.
“Ah, Värmland, my beautiful, my glorious Värmland!
Often, when I have seen thee before me on
a map, I have wondered what thou didst represent;
but now I know what thou art. Thou art an old,
pious hermit that sits motionless and dreams, with
legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. Thou
hast a pointed cap drawn over thy half-closed eyes;
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