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 day before yesterday, and so will not come up the mountain any more.”

“Who is the old goat?” called Heidi back.

“Why, her mother, of course,” was the answer.

“Where is the grandmother?” called Heidi again.

“She has none.”

“And the grandfather?”

“She has none.”

“Oh, you poor little Snowflake!” exclaimed Heidi, clasping the animal gently to her, “but do not cry like that any more; see now, I shall come up here with you every day, so that you will not be alone any more, and if you want anything you have only to come to me.”

The young animal rubbed its head contentedly against Heidi’s shoulder, and no longer gave such plaintive bleats. Peter now having finished his meal joined Heidi and the goats, Heidi having by this time found out a great many things about these. She had decided that by far the handsomest and best-behaved of the goats were undoubtedly the two belonging to her grandfather; they carried themselves with a certain air of distinction and generally went their own way, and as to the great Turk, they treated him with indifference and contempt.

The goats were now beginning to climb the rocks again, each seeking for the plants it liked in its own fashion, some jumping over everything they met till they found what they wanted, others going more carefully and cropping all the nice leaves by the way, the Turk still now and then giving the others a poke with his horns. Little Swan and Little Bear clambered lightly up and never failed to find the best bushes, and then they