“Why, Erik!” exclaimed Karen in surprise; “that is from ’The Song of the High’ by Odin, the king of the gods.  How did you happen to know it?”

“I know many things,” said Erik with an air of importance.  But there were some things which Erik did not know.  One was, how to play the trombone; and it was his strongest trait that he liked to investigate everything that was new and strange.

Now, when Karen spoke in such a tone of admiration, Erik felt that he must find out at once about that queer instrument which made such loud music; and before Gerda knew what he was doing, he had jumped up from the ground and walked to the stand where the musicians were playing.

“Let me try it,” he said, and held out his hand for the trombone.

Gerda was in an agony of distress.  “Run and get him, Birger,” she urged.  “Oh, run quick!”

“Erik, Erik, come here!” cried Birger, running after his friend.  But before Birger’s voice reached his ears, the trombonist had said very plainly and harshly, “Get away from here, you dirty Lapp!” and poor Erik was looking at him with shame and anger in his eyes, when Birger took hold of his clenched hand and led him away from the bandstand.

It was a hard moment for the twins.  People were looking at them and laughing, and the words, “Lapp!  Lapp!” spoken in a tone of ridicule, could be heard on every side.

“Let us go home,” suggested Gerda, her face scarlet with shame at so much unpleasant attention.

“No,” said Birger stoutly, “let us stay right here and show that we don’t care.”

But Karen all at once felt very tired, and when she told Gerda about it, the little party went sadly through the crowd and took their places in silence on the return steamer.

Neither Birger nor Gerda had any heart to tell their friends the names of the different buildings which they saw from the deck of the boat, although Gerda said once, with a brave little effort to make Erik forget his shame, “We will go home through Erik-gatan.”

But Erik looked at her with troubled eyes and made no answer.  Not until they were safely within the walls of home did he speak, and then it was to ask, “Why did he call me a dirty Lapp?”

“Because many Lapps are dirty,” replied Birger, feeling just as miserable as Erik looked.  “They don’t bathe, nor eat from dishes, nor sleep in beds, as good Swedish people do.”

“I shall bathe, and eat from dishes, and sleep in beds all the rest of my life,” said Erik, his face very white, his eyes very angry.  “And I shall learn to use that strange tool that makes loud music,” he added.

Lieutenant Ekman stood in the doorway, listening to his words.  “Good,” he said heartily; “that is the way for you to talk.  And you shall learn to use many other tools, too.  I have made arrangements to-day for you to work in the ironworks at Goeteborg, where they make steamers, engines and boilers.  I have a friend there who will look after you, and see that you are taught a good trade.”