This brings us to other games played by Norwegian children--not the games which are purchased in the shops in Christiania, Bergen, and other towns, but the games which are played without any of the bought things. Of course the girls have dolls and dolls' houses and dolls'

tea-parties, like the girls of every land, and there are toys of every description in the shops. The peasant children, however, who live far out in the country, never see a shop, and have to provide themselves with things to play with; but it is wonderful what an amount of amus.e.m.e.nt they can get out of an old bone, or a block of wood, tied to a yard or two of string.

As a rule their fathers are good hands at carving wood, so toys are easily made for the smaller children, and one finds everywhere such simple toys as wooden dolls, animals, miniature boats, sleighs, and carts.

But the real enjoyment of the Norwegian children--at any rate of the girls--is the outdoor game, played when the weather is fine, both in the town and in the country, wherever there are enough children to make a game. To see a bevy of these quaint little girls throwing heart and soul into their games is delightful, and they have scores and scores of different ones. In most of them dancing and singing play a great part, and the most popular form of game is what is called a "Ring Dance," in which, as the name implies, the players join hands and dance round in a circle.

Many of these ring dances have their counterpart in English games, and the tunes and words sung to them are almost similar. Whether we adopted them from the Norwegians, or they adopted them from us, is a matter which will probably never be decided, but several games of this kind are common to all Europe. "Blind Man's Buff," "Hunt the Slipper,"

and "Forfeits," for instance, are found nearly everywhere. Here is the Norse version of "Round and round the Mulberry Bush," which in some parts is called "The Washing-Maids' Dance," and in others "Round the Juniper Bush":

"So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush, So we go round the juniper bush early on Monday morning.

This is the way we wash our clothes, wash our clothes, wash our clothes, This is the way we wash our clothes early on Monday morning.

"So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush, So we go round the juniper bush early on Tuesday morning.

This is the way we ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, This is the way we ring out our clothes early on Tuesday morning."

The washing operations proceed through the next three days of the week, with a verse to each day. Thus on Wednesday they hang up the clothes, on Thursday they mangle them, and on Friday iron them. Then on Sat.u.r.day they scrub the floor, and on Sunday go to church.

With each verse the children dance hand in hand round the imaginary juniper bush, singing l.u.s.tily, and ill.u.s.trating the different actions of the washing operations. Finally, two and two and arm in arm, they promenade round, as if going to church, and generally prolong the walk while they sing the last verse a second time.

Another very favourite game is _Slaengkompas_, which is perhaps best translated almost literally as Scatter-Compa.s.s. It is a rapid game, and full of excitement. The players grasp hands in a circle and gallop round, singing the refrain as they go:

"Those who would join in _Slaengkompas_ must be tolerably quick!

One--two--three--and four--and five.

So comes _Slaengkompas_ again."

When the counting begins the players let go hands, and, clapping to the tune, spin round separately until the word "five" is reached, when they should be in position ready to join hands again and continue to gallop round in the original circle.

The aim of the game is to keep things going until the verse has been sung three times, but, of course, the players often become giddy and lose their places.

There is not s.p.a.ce to describe more of these ring dances here, but there are many of them, and a great many which our English children would do well to adopt.

Our good old street game of "Hop-scotch" you may see played almost anywhere in Norway under the somewhat curious name of "Hop-in-Paradise," while in some parts "Cat's Cradle," though a milder form of amus.e.m.e.nt, is quite popular, and a large variety of figures is known.

Then the girls are very fond of dressing up as brides, with crowns and all, and having a mock wedding, with its accompanying procession and dancing. Above all things they love dancing, and their fathers and grandfathers play the fiddle for them for many an hour of a winter's evening, while the mothers sing nursery rhymes to the smaller children. And, as with the games, these jingles are more or less the same as our own. They have "This is the house that Jack built,"

with the malt, and the rat, and everything, only that they prefer the name Jacob to Jack. They have "Fly away, Peter, fly away, Paul"; and the baby on his mother's knee has the joy of being shaken about to "This is the way the farmer rides, b.u.mpety-b.u.mpety-b.u.mp."

CHAPTER VII

SOME FAIRY TALES

Norwegian children are just as fond of fairy stories as are any other children, and they are lucky in having a great number, for that famous story-teller, Hans Christian Andersen, was a Dane, and as the Danish language is very like the Norwegian, his stories were probably known in Norway long before they were known in England. But the Norwegians have plenty of other stories of their own, and they love to sit by the fire of burning logs or round the stove in the long winter evenings and listen to them. Of course, they know all about people like Cinderella and Jack the Giant-Killer, but their favourite hero is called by the name of Ashpot, who is sometimes a kind of boy Cinderella and sometimes a Jack the Giant-Killer.

The following are two stories which the little yellow-haired Norse children gloat over:

Once upon a time there was a man who had been out cutting wood, and when he came home he found that he had left his coat behind, so he told his little daughter to go and fetch it. The child started off, but before she reached the wood darkness came on, and suddenly a great big hill-giant swooped down upon her.

"Please, Mr. Giant," said she, trembling all over, "don't take me away to-night, as father wants his coat; but to-morrow night, if you will come when I go to the _stabbur_ to fetch the bread, I will go away with you quite quietly."

So the giant agreed, and the next night, when she went to fetch the bread, he came and carried her off. As soon as it was found that she was missing, her father sent her eldest brother to look for her, but he came back without finding her. The second brother was also sent, but with no better result. At last the father turned to his youngest son, who was the drudge of the house, and said: "Now, Ashpot, you go and see if you can find your sister."

So away went Ashpot, and no sooner had he reached the wood than he met a bear.

"Friend bear," said Ashpot, "will you help me?"

"Willingly," answered the bear. "Get up on my back."

And Ashpot mounted the bear's back and rode off. Presently they met a wolf.

"Friend wolf," said Ashpot, "will you do some work for me ?"

"Willingly," answered the wolf.

"Then jump up behind," said Ashpot, and the three went on deeper into the wood.

They next met a fox, and then a hare, both of whom were enlisted into Ashpot's service, and, mounted on the back of the bear, were swiftly carried off to the giant's abode.

"Good-day, Mr. Giant!" said they.

"Scratch my back!" roared the giant, who lay stretched in front of the fire warming himself.

The hare immediately climbed up and began to scratch as desired; but the giant knocked him over, and down he fell on to the hearth-stone, breaking off his fore-legs, since which time all hares have had short fore-legs.

The fox next clambered up to scratch the giant's back, but he was served like the hare. Then the wolf's turn came, but the giant said that he was no better at scratching than the others.

"_You_ scratch me!" shouted the giant, turning impatiently to the bear.

"All right," answered Bruin; "I know all about scratching," and he forthwith dug his claws into the giant's back and ripped it into a thousand pieces.

Then all the beasts danced on the dead body of the monster, and Ashpot recovered his sister and took her home, carrying off, at the same time, all the giant's gold and silver. The bear and the wolf burst into the cattle-sheds and devoured all the cows and sheep, the fox feasted in the henroost, while the hare had the free run of the oatfield. So everyone was satisfied.

The other story is also about Ashpot, whose two elder brothers still treated him very badly, and eventually turned him out of his home. Poor Ashpot wandered away up into the mountains, where he met a huge giant. At first he was terribly afraid, but after a little while he told the giant what had happened to him, and asked him if he could find a job for him.

"You are just the very man I want," said the giant. "Come along with me."

The first work to be done was to make a fire to brew some ale, so they went off together to the forest to cut firewood. The giant carried a club in place of an axe, and when they came to a large birch-tree he asked Ashpot whether he would like to club the tree down or climb up and hold the top of it. The boy thought that the latter would suit him best, and he soon got up to the topmost branches and held on to them. But the giant gave the tree such a blow with his club as to knock it right out of the ground, sending Ashpot flying across the meadows into a marsh. Luckily he landed on soft ground, and was none the worse for his adventure; and they soon managed to get the tree home, when they set to work to make a fire.

But the wood was green, and would not burn, so the giant began to blow. At the first puff Ashpot found himself flying up to the ceiling as if he had been a feather, but he managed to catch hold of a piece of birch-bark among the rafters, and on reaching the ground again he told the giant that he had been up to get something to make the fire burn.