Карлсон, который живет на крыше

           Itwasalightandbeautifulspringevening,andthewindowwaswideopen. Thewhitecurtainsblewgentlyinandoutasifwavingtothepalelittlestarsinthespringsky. Ericwenttothewindowandstoodthere,lookingout. Hethoughtaboutthefriendlydogandwonderedwhatitwasdoingnow… maybelyinginadogbasketinakitchensomewhere, andmaybeaboy(anotherboy,notEric) wassittingonthefloorbesideit,pattingitsshaggyhead, saying,"Rickey!Gooddog,Rickey!" 

           Ericsighedheavily. Thenheheardalittlebuzzingsound. Thebuzzinggotlouderandlouder,andhesuddenlysawafatlittlemanslowlyflyingpastthewindow. ItwasKarlsson-on-the-Roof! But,ofcourse,Ericdidnotknowthat. 

           KarlssonmerelygaveEricaquickglanceandsailedon. Hecircledovertherooftopofthehouseopposite,roundedthechimney,andthensteeredbacktowardEric’swindow. BynowhehadgotupspeedandhewhizzedpastEric,almostlikeajetplane. Severaltimesheshotpast. Ericstoodsilentlywatching, buthehadbutterfliesinhistummyfromtheexcitement. Afterall,itisn’teverydaythatafatlittlemanfliespastyourwindow. AtlastKarlssonsloweddownclosetothewindowledge. 

           "Hi-ho!"hesaid."MayItakeaseat?" 

           "Oh,pleasedo,"saidEric."Isn’titdifficulttoflylikethat?"headded. 

           "Notforme,"saidKarlssonimportantly. "Formeitisnotatalldifficult,becauseIamtheWorld’sBestStuntFlyer. ButIwouldn’tadviseanyoldsackofhaytotry."