lay, and he dreamed that the little goat had gone to heaven and that he sat alone on the roof and could not go to it.
Suddenly there came something wet close up to his ear. He started up. "Bay-ay-ay!" it said. It was the little goat come back.
"What, have you come back?" he cried. He jumped up, took it by the forelegs, and danced with it as if it were a brother. He tickled it and pulled its beard, and set off with it to the hut to tell his mother the good news.
Just then he heard someone behind him; it was the little girl.
"Oh, so it was you brought it back?" said he.
"Grandfather would not let me keep it," said she; "he is waiting near for me."
A sharp voice called out, "Now!" It was her grandfather's, and she remembered what she was to do. She put one of her muddy hands into Oeyvind's and said, "I beg your pardon for taking the little goat." Then she could keep in no longer; she threw her arms around the goat's neck and wept aloud.
"You may have the goat," said Oeyvind.
"Make haste," cried grandfather. So Marit had to go, and Oeyvind had his little goat again.
—Björnstjerne Björnson
