more." Snowflake gave her a friendly and grateful look, and then
went leaping joyfully after the other goats.

Heidi returned to the fir-trees. "O grandfather," she cried,
even before she had come up to him, "it was so beautiful. The
fire, and the roses on the rocks, and the blue and yellow
flowers, and look what I have brought you!" And opening the apron
that held her flowers she shook them all out at her grandfather's
feet. But the poor flowers, how changed they were! Heidi hardly
knew them again. They looked like dry bits of hay, not a single
little flower cup stood open. "O grandfather, what is the matter
with them?" exclaimed Heidi in shocked surprise, "they were not
like that this morning, why do they look so now?"

"They like to stand out there in the sun and not to be shut up
in an apron," said her grandfather.

"Then I will never gather any more. But, grandfather, why did
the great bird go on croaking so?" she continued in an eager tone
of inquiry.

"Go along now and get into your bath while I go and get some
milk; when we are together at supper I will tell you all about
it."

Heidi obeyed, and when later she was sitting on her high stool
before her milk bowl with her grandfather beside her, she
repeated her question, "Why does the great bird go on croaking
and screaming down at us, grandfather?"