In the spring there had been
three fine cows there, but now there was only one--Mayrose. It was quite
apparent that she yearned for her comrades. Her head drooped sadly, and
she had hardly touched the feed in her crib.
"Good day, Mayrose!" said the boy, running fearlessly into her stall.
"How are mother and father? How are the cat and the chickens? What has
become of Star and Gold-Lily?"
When Mayrose heard the boy's voice she started, and appeared as if she
were going to gore him. But she was not so quick-tempered now as
formerly, and took time to look well at Nils Holgersson.
He was just as little now as when he went away, and wore the same
clothes; yet he was completely changed. The Nils Holgersson that went
away in the spring had a heavy, slow gait, a drawling speech, and sleepy
eyes. The one that had come back was lithe and alert, ready of speech,
and had eyes that sparkled and danced. He had a confident bearing that
commanded respect, little as he was. Although he himself did not look
happy, he inspired happiness in others.
"Moo!" bellowed Mayrose. "They told me that he was changed, but I
couldn't believe it. Welcome home, Nils Holgersson! Welcome home! This
is the first glad moment I have known for ever so long!"
"Thank you, Mayrose!" said the boy, who was very happy to be so well
received.
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