Riis House (_No. 50 Henry Street, New York_)
Christmas Eve with the King's Daughters
James Tanner
"The little ones from Cherry Street"
My Silver Bride
Here comes the Baby!
"That minute I knew"
CHAPTER I
THE MEETING ON THE LONG BRIDGE
[Illustration: Our Stork]
On the outskirts of the ancient town of Ribe, on the Danish north
seacoast, a wooden bridge spanned the Nibs River when I was a boy--a
frail structure, with twin arches like the humps of a dromedary,
for boats to go under. Upon it my story begins. The bridge is long
since gone. The grass-grown lane that knew our romping feet leads
nowhere now. But in my memory it is all as it was that day nearly
forty years ago, and it is always summer there. The bees are droning
among the forget-me-nots that grow along shore, and the swans arch
their necks in the limpid stream. The clatter of the mill-wheel
down at the dam comes up with drowsy hum; the sweet smells of meadow
and field are in the air. On the bridge a boy and a girl have met.
He whistles a tune, boy-fashion, with worsted jacket slung across
his arm, on his way home from the carpenter shop to his midday
meal.
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