"Yes, of course," said Rico, with a serious expression; "and I often
dream about it too, and see great red flowers there, and in the distance
the purple mountains."

"Oh! what one dreams does not count," said Stineli. "I dreamed once that
Peterli climbed, all alone, to the top of the highest pine-tree; and
when he was on the top twig, suddenly he changed into a bird and called
out, 'Come, Stineli, and put on my stockings for me.' So you see that it
does not mean any thing when you dream."

Rico pondered over this, for his dream might certainly mean something,
and yet only be thoughts passing through his mind. Now, however, they
were near the schoolhouse, and a troop of noisy children came towards
them from the opposite direction. They all entered together, and soon
the teacher came in. He was an old man with thin, gray hair, for he had
been teacher for an incredibly long time,--so long, that his hair had
grown gray and fallen out.

Now a busy spelling and pronouncing began; then followed the
multiplication-table, and, lastly, the singing. For this the teacher
brought out his old fiddle and tuned it. Then they began, and all
shouted at the top of their lungs,--

"Little lambkins, come down
From the bright sunny height,"

and the teacher played the accompaniment.

Rico, however, had his eyes fixed so attentively upon the fiddle, and on
the teacher's fingers as he touched the strings, that he quite forgot