radiance such as only the aurora borealis can give.

Banners of crimson, yellow and violet flamed and flared from horizon to
zenith; sheets of glimmering light streamed across the sky, swaying back
and forth, and changing from white to blue and green, with once in a
while a magnificent tongue of red flame shooting higher than the others.

"It is a carnival of light," said Gerda, in a tone of awe. She had often
seen the northern lights, but never any so brilliant as these.

Everyone seemed charged with the electricity, and little Karen said
softly, "I never felt so strange before. The lights go up and down my
back to the tip of my toes."

"It is the elves of light dancing round the room," said Birger with a
laugh.

"No," said Gerda, "it is the Tomtar playing with the electric wires."

Then, as they all stood watching the wonderful display in the heavens,
the door opened and Lieutenant Ekman came into the room. "Here is a
letter for Karen from her mother," he said; "I have had it in my pocket
all day."

"Oh, let me see it," said Karen, and she turned and ran across the room.
Yes, ran,--with her crutch standing beside the chair at the window, and
her two feet pattering firmly on the floor.

"Look at Karen," cried Gerda. "She has forgotten her crutch!"