now spread the sheet over the bed, and where it was too long or too broad, Heidi quickly tucked it in under the hay. It looked now as tidy and comfortable a bed as you could wish for, and Heidi stood gazing thoughtfully at her handiwork.
“We have forgotten something now, grandfather,” she said after a short silence.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A coverlid; when you get into bed, you have to creep in between the sheets and the coverlid.”
“Oh, that’s the way, is it? But suppose I have not got a coverlid?” said the old man.
“Well, never mind, grandfather,” said Heidi in a consoling tone of voice, “I can take some more hay to put over me,” and she was turning quickly to fetch another armful from the heap, when her grandfather stopped her. “Wait a moment,” he said, and he climbed down the ladder again and went towards his bed. He returned to the loft with a large, thick sack, made of flax, which he threw down, exclaiming, “There, that is better than hay, is it not?”
Heidi began tugging away at the sack with all her little might, in her efforts to get it smooth and straight, but her small hands were not fitted for so heavy a job. Her grandfather came to her assistance, and when they had got it tidily spread over the bed, it all looked so nice and warm and comfortable that Heidi stood gazing at it in delight. “That is a splendid coverlid,” she said, “and the bed looks lovely altogether! I wish it was night, so that I might get inside it at once.”
“I think we might have something to eat first,” said the grandfather, “what do you think?”
