"Show me your treasures, and I will show you mine," Gerda said to Erik, after the first stop.

The boy shook his head. "I bought something useful," he said, "and I shall send it to my father;" but even with coaxing he would not tell what it was, until they were all ready to show their treasures to Lieutenant Ekman. So all three of the children agreed to keep their souvenirs a secret, and had great fun slipping off alone to buy them.

All day and all night, and all the next day, the boat steamed across the open lakes, glided noiselessly into the quiet ca.n.a.ls, or climbed slowly step by step up the locks.

Toward night of the second day Birger suddenly announced, "This is Lake Viken, and it is the highest lake on the way between the two ends of the ca.n.a.l route. The captain says that it is more than three hundred feet above the level of the sea."

"Have we seen the prettiest part of the route?" asked Gerda.

"Far from it," was the answer. "The best part of the ca.n.a.l is still before us, at Trollhattan, although the next lake that we enter, Lake Vener, is a lovely sheet of water. It is the largest lake in Sweden, and I must visit one of the lighthouses."

"And I must call upon one of the trolls when we get to Trollhattan," said Gerda, shaking her head with an air of importance.

"I shall walk up the locks," said Birger.

"You mean that you will walk down the locks," Erik corrected him. "After this the boat will go downstairs until we reach the Gota River."

And when, on the last morning of the journey, they reached Trollhattan, with its famous waterfalls and rapids, the children went ash.o.r.e and left the boat to walk down the steep hillside by itself, while they ran along beside the ca.n.a.l, or took little trips through the groves to get a better view of the falls. Gerda peered under the trees and bushes for a glimpse of the water witches, but she saw not one.

"And now for your treasures," said Lieutenant Ekman, when they were once more on the boat and it was steaming down the Gota River to Goteborg.

"I bought post-cards," Birger announced, and took a handful from his pocket. "Here are pictures of the giant staircase of locks at Trollhattan, Lake Vener at sunset, the fortress at Karlsborg, the castle at Vettersborg, and the great iron works at Motala."

While Herr Ekman was examining the cards and asking Birger all sorts of questions about them, Gerda was busy spreading out her souvenirs on one of the deck chairs; and such a variety as she had! There was a box of soap, a bag filled with squares of beet-sugar, a tiny hammer made in the shape of the giant steam-hammer "Wrath" at Motala, a package of paper made at one of the great paper-mills, lace collars, a lace cap and some beautiful handkerchiefs from Vadstena.

When her father turned his attention to her collection, he held up his hands in amazement. "Are all these things made in Sweden?" he asked.

"And did you buy them all with one krona?"

"They are all made in the towns and cities which we have visited," Gerda replied; "but they cost more than one krona. Mother gave me five kronor before we left home and asked me to buy handkerchiefs and laces at Vadstena. They are the best to be found anywhere in Sweden."

"And how about your treasures, Erik?" asked Lieutenant Ekman, after he had admired Gerda's.

Erik put his hand into his coat pocket and took out a box of matches.

"These are from Norrkoping," he said.

From another pocket he took another box of matches. "And these are from Soderkoping," he added. Then from one pocket and another he took boxes of matches of all sizes and kinds, each time naming the town where they were manufactured; while the twins and their father gazed at him in surprise.

"But why so many matches?" asked Lieutenant Ekman, when at last the supply seemed to be exhausted. "You have matches enough there to light the whole world."

"My father will use them to light his fires," replied Erik. "Matches are a great luxury in Lapland.

"And besides," he added, "Sweden manufactures enough matches to light the whole world. The captain told me that they are made in twenty-one different cities and towns, and that they have taken prizes everywhere."

"That is true," said Herr Ekman. "Swedish matches are famous the world over. My young Vikings have each made a good collection of souvenirs."

At that moment a pretty little maid curtsied before them, saying, "Goteborg, if you please."

"Oh dear," sighed Gerda, gathering up her treasures, "here's the end of our long journey over the wonderful ca.n.a.l!"

But Erik looked down the river to the tall chimneys of the iron-works and said to himself, "And here's the beginning of my work in the world."

CHAPTER XII

A WINTER CARNIVAL

"Abroad is good but home is better," quoted Birger, as the railroad train whizzed across the country, bearing the twins toward home once more after four happy days of sight-seeing in Goteborg.

"Vacation will soon be over and we shall be back again in our dear old school," exclaimed Gerda, with a comical expression on her face.

"I feel as if we had been going to the best kind of a school all summer,"

said her brother, looking out of the window at the broad fields and little red farmhouses cuddling down in the green landscape. "We have been learning about the largest cities, and the ca.n.a.ls and railroads, the lakes and rivers, and that is what we have to do when we study geography in school."

"If I ever make a geography," and Gerda gave a great sigh, "I shall have nothing but pictures in it. That is the way the real earth looks outside of the geographies. There are just millions and millions of pictures fitted together, and not a single word said about them."

Birger laughed. "I will study your geography," he said, "if I am not too busy making one of my own."

"What kind of a geography shall you make?" asked Gerda.

"I shall put in my book all my thoughts about the sights I see," he answered. "It will read like this, 'The harbor at Goteborg made me think of Stockholm harbor, with all the different ships that sail away to foreign lands; and of the great world beyond the sea.'"

"Your geography would never please the children half so much as mine,"

said Gerda; "because we don't all think alike. It makes some people sea-sick when they think of ships."

"Here we are in Stockholm," said Lieutenant Ekman, gathering up the bags and bundles and helping the children out of the train. "Before we write a geography we must see about putting little Karen Kla.s.son under the doctor's care."

But they found that Fru Ekman had already taken Karen to see the doctor, and had made arrangements for her treatment at the Gymnastic Inst.i.tute.

"The doctor says that I shall be able to walk without a crutch by springtime, if I take the gymnastics faithfully every day," said Karen happily.

"Oh, Gerda," she added, "ever so many of your friends have been to see me. They are such kind boys and girls!"

"Of course they are! They are the best in the world," Gerda declared, and it seemed, indeed, as if there could be no kinder children anywhere than those who filled all the autumn days with the magic of their fun and good-will for the little lame Karen.

Bouquets of flowers, and plants with bright blossoms, simple games, and new books found their way to her room. There was seldom a day when one or another of the friends did not come to tell her about some of their good times, or plan a little pleasure for her; and Karen seemed to find as much enjoyment in hearing of the fun as if she, herself, could really take part in it.

"What is the carnival?" she asked Gerda one evening in late November, when the last of the friends had clattered down the stairs, and the two little girls were sitting beside the tall porcelain stove which filled the room with a comfortable heat. "I have heard you all talking about it for days; but I don't know just what it is."

"It is a day for winter sports, and all kinds of fun, and you shall sit in the casino at the Deer Park and see it for yourself," said Gerda, giving Karen a loving hug.

When the day of the carnival arrived at last, and Karen sat in the casino, cosily wrapped in furs, and looked out over the Djurgrd, she knew that she had never dreamed of so much fun and beauty.

There had been heavy h.o.a.r frosts for several nights, and the trees had become perfectly white,--the pines standing straight as powdered sentinels, the birches bending under their silvery covering like frozen fountains of spray. The ice was covered with skaters, their sharp steel shoes flashing in the sun, their merry laughter ringing out in the cold, crisp air.

It seemed as if everyone in Stockholm were skating, or snow-shoeing, or skimming over the fields of snow on long skis. Even Fru Ekman, after making Karen comfortable in the casino, strapped a pair of skates on her own feet and astonished the little girl with the wonderful circles and figures she could cut on the ice.