Birkenfeld had just returned from a long journey. The children had all
gone down to the lake, to meet him at the landing when the steamboat came
in. Their mother had remained at home to complete the preparations for
the grand reception and the feast in the garden under the big apple-tree.
The father's home-coming after so long an absence was a very joyful
occasion for the family, and must be celebrated as such.
As soon as the carriage stopped at the door, the mother came running out
to meet her husband. All the children jumped down, one after another, and
the cat and the dog too, and they all crowded into the large hall, where
the welcomings and greetings grew so loud and so violent that the father
hardly knew where he was, nor which way to turn as they all pressed about
him.
"Now one at a time, my children, and then I can give you each a good
kiss," he said at last, when he succeeded in making himself heard through
the tumult, "first the youngest, and then the others according to age.
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