“Do you see that little hill over there?” said Oscar, pointing in that direction.  “There’s a wind-mill up there; see how finely the big wings go turning round in the wind, like huge banners waving for a festival, and inviting people from all sides to come and rejoice together.  All the people who are to come to our celebration might camp out around the foot of that hill, and the speaker could stand up above there on that platform, and those huge flags would wave to and fro behind him and show where the festival was taking place, to all the neighboring country!”

Oscar uttered these words in such a tone of enthusiasm that his companion caught the infection; but she hesitated.

“Yes, it would be fine,” she said; “but don’t you think we should have to ask the miller’s leave?”

Oscar thought this would not be at all necessary, as the meeting would do no harm to the mill or to the grass, which was evidently very short.  He would go over and inspect the place himself.

“How is the banner getting on, Elsli?” he asked presently.

“Oh, I forgot it entirely!” said the girl, somewhat startled.  “It is all ready, and I meant to put it in your bedroom to welcome you.  You see, Oscar, I finished it; because Aunt Clarissa said that it would be prettier without a motto, if I put a wreath of Alpine roses on the Swiss flag, and so I embroidered one upon it.”

But this did not suit Oscar at all; he wished to have his motto, his verses, over which he had spent so much trouble and had had so many discussions.  He had no mind to drop it now; and he looked as if he had suffered a severe loss.  Elsli saw his disappointment, and she hastened to propose a remedy.  Why not put the motto on the other side of the banner?  Oscar could print the verse in large letters on a piece of paper, and she would fasten it upon the banner, on the side opposite the Alpine roses.  That was a clever thought.  Oscar’s spirits rose again, and the banner would be really in the end far handsomer than he had expected.

“You are the smartest girl I know, Elsli,” cried the lad; and this unexpected praise brought the color into Elsli’s cheeks, for she was little accustomed to notice, much less to commendation.

“How many Swiss have you found and invited to join our society?” continued Oscar.

Elsli confessed that she had discovered but one; the baker’s boy who brought fresh bread to the house every day; and she could not induce him to join the society.  “I am very sorry,” she said, “that I could not do as you asked me; but we are not allowed to go into the kitchen and talk to the people that come there.”

But Oscar was well satisfied.  He only wanted to know at what time and from which direction the baker’s boy came every morning; and this Elsli told him.  “All right!” he said; “I can help myself, now.”