storm; and you see there was no informal garden then, and no Ailouros. Here are Jim and Garth lying on the landing, as I told you they did."
"Those were nice stories," Garth reflected. "I can remember little bits of some of them. And the boards on the pier were all white and hot."
"And both of you began to get tanned," Elspeth broke in; "you looked rather queer with a tan then, because you were so thin and all. These are the next spring, Joan, when he was four and a half. He was beginning to walk again; he had a way of falling down at the wrong time in those days." She turned to Garth suddenly. "What made me think of it? That picture of you taking your nap, I suppose. Do you remember 'The Lullaby of the Little Ship'?"
"Of course I do!" Garth cried. "Why, you haven't sung that for years and years and years! Oh, sing it now, Mudder; I'd forgotten all about it."
"It was a little one that Jim made," Elspeth explained, "and Garth never went to sleep without it. He used to take such a long time to go to sleep; so I sang to him, I wonder if I can
