Redcoat Captain: A Story of That Country

Then the King cocked his crown, and asked if he might be so good as to inquire her reasons.

So the Queen mopped and answered,

"Because of too warm."

But the old lady, when she heard that, got up, and said to her daughter rather bitterly, for too many tea-cakes had soured her nature,

"Then I think it's time for us to be going." And they went out with their heads very high, and camped on the Common instead; which you may as soon as the grass is dry.

But the King was really rather glad: for he was a bit bored.

And the Commander-in-Chief was glad too; for he was free to do his bad best once more.

And that very afternoon, as the Colonel and Tiny were taking their daily ride on Goliath—the Colonel with the sea-gull in his arms to give it a swim in the Pond,—the Commander-in-Chief, disguised as a nigger-boy, leaped out of the Wood, and tried to storm Goly by the tail.

But Goly just turned his trunk, and gave the Commander-in-Chief a good old clout instead, which sent him sprawling.

Then the Colonel, who was sitting towards the head, said,

"What is it?"

So Tiny, who was sitting towards the tail, answered, very loud,

"Only a dirty little black boy, Sir, whom Goly spanked for tweaking his tail." But Tiny really knew quite well, because the Commander-in-Chief's hump stuck up in the air, as he lay flat-face in the mud.

And when the Commander-in-Chief heard what Tiny said, tie raised his face, with his nose all muddy, and screamed,

"I'll tell the King! I'll tell the King! I'll tell the King!" and he buried his face in the road again, and simplee kicked.

But Tiny just cried back anyhow,

"Dummind if you do," for he knew he was all right: for if when you are Commander-in-Chief you disguise as a nigger-boy, you mustn't mind if you do get spanked.

Besides Tiny knew that St Jack had been growing so old of late, that even the good King had begun to notice it.

And Tiny knew that because the Queen who was a bit of a blab, honest soul, had told him in secret that morning, when he went to the Castle for the washing; which was always his little job.

For the Queen does all the washing in That Country.

A few minutes later as Baby came panting up the lane with Tiny's boat, which he was going to sail on the Pond against the Colonel's gull, she found the Commander-in-Chief sitting in the middle of the path, fiddling his nose about between his fingers, and blubbing rather.

And when she saw how muddy his nose was, and how he fiddled it, she ran up with her eyes round-wide, crying,

"O, you poor little thing!—What have they been doing to you?—Let me wipe your nose for you."

Then the Commander-in-Chief answered very brave, as he leaned back on his hands, with his nose up for Baby to do,

"Why, I was comin up the lane, when all of a sudden—pop! bang! They set on me—ten hundud times ten hundud of um. But I beat um off—and I killed um all." And he bubbled his eyes and whispered—"There was some true live blood."

Then Baby whistled as she did his nose with her handkerchief, and said,

"Strikes me, you are the bravest in all the world—only Tiny."

But when the Commander-in-Chief heard that, he slapped Baby's hand away, and scrambled to his feet, and bowed up and down with a sort of a smile, saying,

"Thank-ku," and went away down the lane with his hump up high: for it only rose when he was in a temper.

39

But St Jack was not the only one who was growing old in That Country about now.

For the Others, who had never been young, were aging very rapidly, because of Phyllis, who scolded them when they didn't work, and cuffed them when they did.

So one evening when Phyllis had run down to little old Lollypop for some fruit for supper (for you have pretty well all fruit in the summer in That Country) the Others came and stood in a row before Baby on the lawn, and said,

"Please, 'M," and the rest, like they do in Abroad; and let go a tear they had got ready.

So when Phyllis ran back up the drive, Baby peeped through the golden bush and called,

"Phyllis."

Then Phyllis came, with the great basket of cherries on her head.

And Baby stood by the golden bush, and pulled a leaf to pieces, and said, very grave and sad,

"Is it true?"

So Phyllis cocked her nose, and answered,

"Some is, Miss; most ain't," which is usually the way with stories from folk in Abroad.

Then Baby turned her face away, and said,

"You are very straight and true, Phyllis. So I love you. Only I must sack you all the same, because you mustn't pinch," for that is one of the rules.

Then Phyllis nearly cried, and said,

"Very well, Miss. Only why can't the Others go back to Abroad where they belong?"

And when Baby heard that, she went to the back-door, and peeped.

And there were the Others trying on huge flower-hats before the glass, and saying there was only one puffect gentleman in That Country, and he was the Commander-in-Chief.

So Baby said very gently,

"My dears, don't you think you'd be happier back in Abroad, where you belong?"

Then the Others turned up their noses, and drooped down their mouths, and said,

"Thank-ye for nothin—We was just hon the go."

And they swept out arm-in-arm, and flounced back to Abroad, where they belonged; and a good job too.

But Phyllis stayed with Baby for ever and ever.

40

Then about next morning the Commander-in-Chief came to the Fort in the Hole, and knocked.

And he was wearing a cap and gown over his khaki-coat, so people might take him for a scholar; and under his arm was the great E-book.

And when the Junior Subaltern came to the gate, and asked him what he wanted, he dropped his eyes, and answered very piously, "I have come to examine you all in E,—and especially my deah Captain Tiny."

So the Junior Subaltern let him in, because he knew he could do it all right.

Then the Commander-in-Chief came in, walking with his shoulders rather round, and his knees rather knocky, because that was how he thought you did if you were a scholar.

But when he got to the square, there was the King in his crown walking up and down arm in arm with the Colonel and Tiny.

And they were laughing and chattering all together at once; and the King was telling about his visitors, and how they had gone at last; and the Colonel was talking about the sea-gull, and how he had christened him Moses; and Tiny was telling about mannikin, and what a good little mannikin he was growing under Baby, who had him out of his hole every day to pick daisies, and taught him.

But when they saw the Commander-in-Chief slouching across the square, with the E-book under his arm, they all stopped.

Then the King stepped forward, and took off his crown very courteously, and said,

"Ah, St Jack! I see why you've come. Well. I'll tell you. I have just examined these gentlemen for you. And I know no one will be so glad as you to hear that they have all passed, and especially your deah Captain Tiny, as nobody ever passed before. So now you can go back to the Castle whence you came. Thank-you very much all the same. How d'you do?—Good-bye."

Then the Commander-in-Chief, when he heard that, bowed up and down with a sort of a smile.

And after that he slouched back across the square to the gate: for there was nothing else to do.

But Tiny ran before him in a great bustle, saying,

"Let me, Sir!" and held the gate for him, for nobody could be more charming than Tiny when he liked, which was mostly always never.

And as the Commander-in-Chief went through, he said most sweetly,

"So sorry you've had all your trouble for nothing, Sir."

But the Commander-in-Chief ran away, snorting; and when he got outside he took off his moustaches and whacked his hand with them; which he always did in a passion.

And that evening he sulked so after tea, that the King got up in a rage, and after pouring the dominoes over his head, shouted,

"Look here! I'm sick o you. You grow older and horrider every day. Go to Abroad!" And he marched to the door.

Then St Jack sat very tight in his chair, and said,

"What ye mean?"

So the King threw his crown into the corner, and roared,

"The sack—that's what I mean!" and he held the door open.

Then Jacky went out in a terrible rage, the King's toe behind him.

41

And after that, Summer came.

And Baby always said she liked Summer best, because of you know why.

And she lived in the garden all day in a flap-hat and gauntlets, and messed, and loved it.

And the Junior Subaltern lived there with her in a coat of many colours and a white hat, and white shoes, and a little sash round his waist, and ate things.

And he loved Baby in a pink and proper way. And Baby loved him to love her, and taught him, so that he became almost like a little man.

And the Junior Subaltern was easier to teach than Tiny, because of younger and squashier. But though he learned quickest, he forgot quickest too—which is often the way. So it really came about to about the same in the end.

But when the Junior Subaltern was there, Tiny walked by himself at the other end of the garden with his back rather turned.

And because he was full of unkindness he too began to grow old.

And he became more and more like a common man from Abroad for the time being, and less and less like a native of That Country.

Then one day when Baby saw Tiny alone by himself like so, she put her finger to her lip, and said to herself out loud,

"I wonder why?"

Then the Junior Subaltern whispered,

"Because of about my umpiring him out at cricket, I spect."

So Baby nodded and said,

"Probly praps. Go and make it up. I turn my back." And she stooped with her kitten on her shoulder and gardened a flower.

Then the Junior Subaltern went.

But Tiny, when he saw him coming, only turned his back more than ever, and walked away, very proud and pokery.

Only when he got round the hollyhocks, where Baby couldn't see, all of a sudden he stopped and bumped backwards into the Junior Subaltern. And when Tiny felt the bump, he whispered skew-wise out of the corner of his mouth, very fierce,

"What ye mean by it?"

So the Junior Subaltern answered,

"By what?"

Then Tiny whispered fiercer than ever,

"Don't answer me, Sir! or I'll put you under arrest or something—you ugh!" and he pretended sick over the flower-bed.

But when the Junior Subaltern heard about you ugh! which is pretty well the worst you can say in That Country, and saw what Tiny was pretending over the flower-bed, he turned pale under the pink, and came up close, and whispered,

"May I be so good as to ask you to splain yourself, Sir?"

Then Tiny answered very short,

"No, ye mayn't," which was a very favourite saying of his.

Then the Junior Subaltern trembled, and answered rather hubbly-bubbly,

"I shan't love you any more, Captain Tiny."

But Tiny just smacked the heads off Baby's flowers, and answered,

"Don't then. Duncare."

So the Junior Subaltern bowed up and down to Tiny's back, and strutted away, all puffed up like a little pouty pigeon, never to return till next day.

But when Baby looked up from gardening the flower, and saw the bristles at the back of the Junior Subaltern's head as he marched away, she ran to Tiny, and dug his ribs with the trowel, and said,

"What you been doing to my nice boy, pig?"

Then Tiny bent and gardened a weed, and grumbled,

"Only nothin."

But Baby dug him some more, and said,

"O you have!—look at the look of the back of his neck."

So Tiny came up from the weed rather red and sulky, and said,

"Only been teachin the boy manners—that's all."

Then Baby said,

"Well, I wish you'd leave teaching him to me," and she took Tiny's arm, and walked him up and down the grass-walk, with the dial at one end, and the herb-border on either side, all sweet in the evening, and taught him till he came good and nice and like you ought to be, if you are to live in That Country.

And next morning on his way down to the Fort, Tiny tapped at little old Lollypop's lattice, and said,

"Good-morning, kind Lollypop. Some red currants, please."

Then Lollypop came out in a sun-bonnet; and her face was all wrinkles and redness like an old crab-apple; and she picked some currants, and did them up in a bag, and wiped her hands on her apron, and gave them to Tiny, saying,

"There, young gentleman!"

And Tiny gave her his penny pocket-money Baby had given him before he went out, for it was Saturday; and ran on down to the Fort with the bag.

And when he got there he shared the currants with the Junior Subaltern on parade, when the Colonel had his back turned, which he had mostly always.

And after that Tiny and the Junior Subaltern became better friends than ever till next time, which you do in that Army.

42

Meanwhile Jacky had gone down to the market, and taken off his Commander-in-Chief's clothes in public there, and sold them to the Junior Subaltern's mother; who laid them away in a drawer for her son, ready for Commander-in-Chief in days to come.

And after that, Jacky swore by little Marwy, who was supposed to be dying, that he would have his ride on Goliath, or leave That Country.

Then he went into hiding in the Wood, and sent round a message by Cooey to say he wasn't there.

But that afternoon as the Boy rode by with the Colonel and the gull on the way to the Pond, he saw Jacky squatting in a hole he'd dug in the ground.

And Jacky was rolling a bit of paper between his fingers, and spying over his shoulder, to see if he was being seen. For he knew very well that what he was doing was dead against the rules of That Country. But he was going from bad to worst so fast that he cared for nothing very much now.

Indeed he was said to have said that, next to a ride, his great wish was to be like a man from Abroad.

Then the Boy, now he knew where Jacky was, lay awake all night with Goly, planning a booby-trap. And old Goly entered into it with all his might: for he loved the Boy, because they had jokes together; and hated Jacky, because of fat beast.

So next day they started out of the Fort together, the Boy riding with his red parasol up to attract attention.

And they went past the Wood, where they could see Jacky quite plainly, hiding up an elder bush, disguised as a cannibal. And he was holding something between his lips. And when he saw them he took it out of his mouth, and held it up in his fingers, and puffed: for he was pretty well dead to all shame now.

But they paid no heed, and strolled on instead.

Then when they got to the Pond they stopped.

And Goly went to sleep with one eye wide, and his back to the Wood.

And he stood with his trunk a tiny bit retroussé, and his tail the least leetle bit out towards the Wood to tempt Jacky.

And Jacky was tempted.

For after about a bit out he crawled in his disguise, and crept up on his hands and knees, and swarmed up Goly by the tail, and threw the Boy down after not much of a tussle; while Goly just stood still and chuckled.

And when Jacky had done dancing and screaming,

"There! There! I told you I would! I told you I would! ha! ha! ha! Who's won now? Who's won now?" he sat down across Goly for his ride.

And he dug his heels in, and bobbed up and down, to pretend he was rising in stirrups, and went with his arms like he'd seen men on horse-back, and cried in a bass-voice,

"Gee up, fat beast! gee up!" and slapped with his hands.

So Goly winked one eyelid, and went for a little bit of a canter round the Pond.

Then Jacky, who wasn't much of a horseman at the best of times, sprawled on Goly's back, gasping,

"I'm having my ride! I'm having my ride. O, I say!—Isn't it j-j-just lubly?" which was quite a lie, for he hated it, because of the bumpety bump.

So he was just going to slither off when Goly shyed with a skip and a squeal, and landed plump in the Pond.

And when the waves had gone down a bit, all you could see was the tip of Goly's trunk, and the top of his back showing above water like a little black island with a shipwrecked cannibal on it, screaming for help.

But there was no help to be had: for the Boy, as soon as he could walk for laughing, tottered back to the Fort, to tell the Fellows!

So the Fellows all came across the Common arm in arm to see. Only the Colonel didn't come, because of too kind. Besides he was sitting up with little Marwy, who was supposed to be dying of a broken heart, because of her mother's grave.

And when the Fellows saw Jacky stranded on Goly's back, they just sat down together round the Pond in a ring, and roared.

And Tiny tossed to and fro, and wiped the tears away, and said,

"Sense me, won't you!—It does make me laff so—you so cosy and comfie out there, Royal King of your own little island, and likely to stay there, for ever so far as I can see. E! E! E! Master Jacky. E! E! E!"

And all the Fellows tossed to and fro, and said in a sort of chorus,

"E! E! E! Master Jacky. E! E! E!"

So they just sat round all that afternoon and evening, and tumbled up against each other with laughing.

But about dusk, Tiny stood up, and said he'd been asked to say a few words.

So they stopped laughing; and there was silence. And Tiny soaped his hands, and lectured, and simplee loved it.

And he said pretty well what Baby had often said to him, only altered a bit, and went on about how Jacky's conduct had grieved him; and how wrong it was to be spiteful and bear malice; and how it not only hurt other people, but it hurt yourself most, because it soured your nature. And if Jacky couldn't be kind and loving then he had better leave That Country. And if he would neither be good, nor go, then they must put him out, for they had found him out now.

And after that he lifted his hand and forgave Jacky on behalf of himself and Baby, and the Regiment, and said he would now say goodnight.

So he bowed up and down, and the Fellows rose, and bowed up and down. Then they all went back across the Common in the dusk arm in arm.

And Jacky was left alone on his island.

But about midnight Goliath knelt down suddenly.

Then Jacky would have been drowned, but that he was washed ashore in the surgings that arose.

And after that Goliath rose and waded out; and the Boy, who was waiting on the bank, dried him with his handkerchief, and got on; and they went back to the Fort at a good round trot.

But Jacky, when he had changed out of his cannibal clothes, swaggered off to Abroad, in a new suit, smoking a cigarette.

BOOK VIII.—A SURPRISE-PRESENT FOR BABY

43

Then about next day the good old doctor rode over from the Castle very mysteriously, and asked to see Baby.

And when he had shut the door, and drawn his chair up very close, he told her in a whisper there was a Surprise-present coming for her from the King at the Castle; only she wasn't to tell any one, because it was a secret.

Then Baby opened her eyes, and whispered,

"Mayn't I know?"

But the good old doctor chuckled,

"Certainly not, my dear. You may guess—if you can," and he got up to go.

Then Baby got up too, and asked,

"When may I know?"

So the doctor answered,

"About to-morrow," and went out, chuckling.

But Baby stayed behind in the window, and guessed and guessed.

Then all of a sudden her heart leaped up; and she blushed and trembled so that she had to sit down.

44

So all the rest of the day she sat under the elm, very busy, making secret little clothes, that nobody was supposed to know anything about.

But of course mannikin must leave his daisies, and come and poke and pry and bother with questions, until at last Baby got up and took him by his little hand, and led him back to his hole, saying,

"You're a very naughty little man indeed. And I'm very cross with you—very cross."

But mannikin only swaggered along at her side, nodding his head very wisely, and saying,

"I know—I know," which was a very favourite saying of mannikin's.

But Baby answered very short,

"I'm sure you don't," and locked him in good and tight for the rest of the day.

And that evening when Tiny came back from the Fort, Baby hid the little clothes away, and walked about on his arm, talking poetry-talk in the twilight among the roses; and she didn't say one word about the secret.

But Tiny saw there was something up all the same. And when he went to tidy up the boot-hole for the night, mannikin came to him in tears, and begged him to get Baby to forgive him, and to say he promised not to mention one word about the little clothes.

And when Tiny heard about the little clothes, he thought,

"Now I know!" and went pale all over with excitement.

For at that time every year, the good King sends a Surprise-present to the best married girl of That Country: for that is one of the rules.

And the Surprise-present is always the same, and so jolly you can't think.

So every nice married girl wants to win it; only you can't unless you have been truly good and loving.

And Tiny knew Baby was best by far; and he believed the King knew it too.

For as he was leaving the Fort that afternoon, he had seen the King whispering in the Colonel's ear behind the water-butt.

And when the Colonel heard, he hopped up high, crying,

"Dear old Baby!"

And the Colonel was Baby's great friend.

45

But Tiny didn't say one word to Baby all the same, but just gave her mannikin's message instead.

Then Baby cried,

"O poor little chap!—I clean forgot him," and she ran to the boot-hole.

And when she got there she heard a tiny little noise inside.

So she undid and peeped.

And there was mannikin sobbing in a heap in the corner.

Then Baby cried,

"Why?"

But mannikin only sobbed,

"Becob you're cross."

So Baby ran to him, and said,

"Dear little mannikin!—It's nothing—only you mustn't bother with questions just now about things you can't understand."

And she sat down, and took him on her lap, and comforted him.

And mannikin leaned his head on her shoulder, and said, very sniffy,

"Lub me," for he was a sentimental little thing.

And he told Baby about his home in a cottage in the Forest far away, where he used to live with his old mother, and little lame sister, and the tortoise-shell cat, till the King came and took him.

And when he told about that, he began to cry again.

Then Baby jigged him a bit, and said,

"Now I'll tell you a secret the Queen told me last time she came round with the butter.—The King is going to let you out soon now, because at all events you try to be good. There!"

And when mannikin heard that, he sniffed and said,

"Gobblessim."

And after that Baby tied an empty reel to a thread, and gave it him.

And he quite cheered up, and bobbed the reel, and twinkled his eyes, and said he a little fisherman, trying to catch a Surprise-present for being so truly good and loving.

46

Next morning, as Tiny entered the Fort, all the Fellows came rushing out from the shed, shouting,

"Well done, Baby!—Good luck to you both!" for it usually leaks out who has won the Surprise-present for the year, before it is stuck up on the Castle-door.

Then Tiny stopped and said,

"But you don't know."

So all the Fellows crowded round, and they answered,

"No, we don't know. But the Queen got talking to the Junior Subaltern when he went to the Castle for his glass of milk this morning. So we next door to know."

Just then the dear old Colonel came up with Moses on his shoulder, and little Marwy, who had quite recovered from her broken heart, trotting behind.

And he stopped and patted Tiny on the back, saying,

"Ah, my dear boy!—I believe I have to congratulate you."

Then Tiny blushed and answered,

"Well, Sir, we've heard nothing from the King as yet. Still—we hope."

So the Colonel nodded very wisely and said,

"Well, we shall see what we shall see."

And he passed on to Sunday-school: for the Colonel always attended himself, and tried to get the Fellows to come too; only they always had sore throats or something, and couldn't.

Then Tiny ran home, quite sure now.

47

And when he got there he found a white paper pinned on to the door, saying,

I have gone to my room to wait. Don't come.

So Tiny waited down below all day.

But towards evening, he crept up, and peeped.

And there was Baby waiting by the window, nursing her pussy-kitten.

And as she nursed, she sang,

    "Hushaby,
    Hushaby,
Here at twilight,
Waiting, I,
Sweet-contented,
Know not why—
    Hushaby,
    Hushaby."

Then Tiny put his finger to his lips, and stole away without a word.

But Baby waited at the window, looking East.

48

Then at dusk the good old doctor came from the Castle with a basket on his arm.

And the basket was full of lovely little Stars of Bethlehem, which flower about then in That Country.

And on the basket was a label written in the King's hand,

Baby
from
The King
because
She Is
so truly
Good and Loving.

Then the old doctor went up the stairs in the dusk very quietly.

And he knocked at Baby's door and entered, the little Stars of Bethlehem shining white about him, as he went.

49

Then after about a bit he came downstairs smiling, the basket empty now, only for the bulrushes that had lined it.

And he came out to where Tiny was holding his white cob, and said,

"Ha, my boy!—what d'you think I've brought for you?"

Then Tiny trembled and said,

"What, Sir?"

So the good old doctor answered,

"Go to Baby's room; and you'll see." And he climbed on to his cob, and jogged away, chuckling.

And the kitten walked after him down the drive with its tail up tight.

50

Then Tiny came to Baby's door and knocked.

But there came no answer.

So he went in.

And within all was still and twilight.

And the only light came from the Stars of Bethlehem strewn about the floor.

And in the middle of these kneeled Baby, rocking to and fro with something in her arms.

And when Tiny came in, she looked up; and he could see her eyes shining in the dusk.

Then Tiny came to her upon his toes, and kneeled beside her.

And he laid his lips to her ear, and whispered, "Mother."

Then they kissed each other and It.

AMEN

ON THE STORY THAT GOES ON FOR EVER

So this story ends the same as all other stories that ever were written, and that is happily.

And really there is only one Story, and it is the best Story in the world; but it is not finished yet, and never will be.

And this Story grows better and better all the time, which is how we know it from the written stories that we read.

But it is told in bits, so that unless we're sort of in the secret, we may mistake it for a lot of little stories, all separate, and all telling against each other.

Yet all the little bits fit in together at the end most perfectly; and not one word is wasted, although it seems as if there would be thousands; to say nothing of bad spellings, and erasures, and great blots of ink and tears.

And it is the same end always, and always a happy end.

For no story really ends sadly for the very good reason that it can't.

For Love is Love, and in the end end of all Love must win.

So after we have finished our bit of the Story, and our friends have read it, and scribbled on the blank space at the bottom,

THE END:
HE WAS A SINNER—

And after they have whispered about us in public, and the ladies have gone behind their handkerchieves, and said,

"We must hope for the best, and expect the worst," and the men have yawned and said,

"Ah, well—De mortuis nil nisi bonum," which means—"He was the Devil's darling from his youth up, and I always told you so."

We need not mind so very much; for it may be that we have done better than we thought; and it is certain that while the world knows nothing of our aim, of our failure it knows more than all.

Moreover let us remember to our comfort that after that dead

END,

which seems to wind us up so blankly, there is always a

BEYOND.

And the strange thing about that Beyond is that it is really no Beyond at all: it is There all the time; but we can hardly see it for the rather odd reason that we are too close.

And this Beyond that is always There is the real Story, if we only knew it.

What we read is only foot-notes at the bottom of the page to explain the real Story.

But because our eyes are so close to the page, and because the page is so very large, we often only see the foot-notes, which are most interesting of themselves.

Then sometimes we deny that the page is there, saying the foot-notes are all, which is rather foolish: for what is the good of Notes on Nothing?

And a man who buries his nose in the Notes, and tries to read the writing by smelling it, is a sinner; and he usually knows a lot about nothing.

And a man who holds his eyes close to the page, and pries into the Notes, is a scientist; and he usually knows a lot about the Notes, and nothing about the Story, which the Notes are on.

And a man who stands back a bit, and says he can read the whole thing, Notes and all, and explain it easily, is a Philosopher; and he usually knows a little about both Notes and Story.

And a man who stands still further back, and looks at the Story very quietly, and tells truly all he sees, without trying to explain it, is a Poet; and he usually knows a lot about both Notes and Story.

And this Beyond that is always There is always the same, and is always a Love-story.

And we are characters in this Love-story, and walk for ever through its pages.

But if we walk apart by ourselves, rather proud and puffed up, saying that it isn't a real Story, and that we don't belong to it, and will take no part, then we lose all the interest.

For that comes from joining in, and feeling that we are characters in the Story, and must help it along by helping the other characters.

While if we enter in, then we very soon find out that it is the best Story in the world, and that if we will, we can be little heroes, and play our part, and win in the end quite splendidly.

Then it becomes exciting.

And once we have joined in, we find oddly enough that as we grow older we grow younger, until at length we become as little children, happy all the time, our work our play, our life a Song of Innocence, not unlike the natives of That Country.