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“Did you ever catch a catch like that, Daddy?”

“No, boy. I was never a particularly good fielder.”

“Did you never catch a good catch?”

“Well, I won’t say that. You see, the best catches are very often flukes, and I remember one awful fluke of that sort.”

“Do tell us, Daddy?”

“Well, dear, I was fielding at slip. That is very near the wicket, you know. Woodcock was bowling, and he had the name of being the fastest bowler of England at that time. It was just the beginning of the match and the ball was quite red. Suddenly I saw something like a red flash and there was the ball stuck in my left hand. I had not time to move it. It simply came and stuck.”

“Oo!”

“I saw another catch like that. It was done by Ulyett, a fine Yorkshire player–such a big, upstanding fellow. He was bowling, and the batsman–it was an Australian in a test match–hit as hard as ever he could. Ulyett could not have seen it, but he just stuck out his hand and there was the ball.”

“Suppose it had hit his body?”

“Well, it would have hurt him.”

“Would he have cried?” from Dimples.

“No, boy. That is what games are for, to teach you to take a knock and never show it. Supposing that–“

A step was heard coming along the passage.

“Good gracious, boys, here’s Mumty. Shut your eyes this moment. It’s all right, dear. I spoke to them very severely and I think they are nearly asleep.”

“What have you been talking about?” asked the Lady.

“Cwicket!” cried Dimples.

“It’s natural enough,” said Daddy; “of course when two boys–“

“Three,” said the Lady, as she tucked up the little beds.

III–SPECULATIONS

The three children were sitting together in a bunch upon the rug in the gloaming. Baby was talking so Daddy behind his newspaper pricked up his ears, for the young lady was silent as a rule, and every glimpse of her little mind was of interest. She was nursing the disreputable little downy quilt which she called Wriggly and much preferred to any of her dolls.

“I wonder if they will let Wriggly into heaven,” she said.

The boys laughed. They generally laughed at what Baby said.

“If they won’t I won’t go in, either,” she added.

“Nor me, neither, if they don’t let in my Teddy-bear,” said Dimples.

“I’ll tell them it is a nice, clean, blue Wriggly,” said Baby. “I love my Wriggly.” She cooed over it and hugged it.

“What about that, Daddy?” asked Laddie, in his earnest fashion. “Are there toys in heaven, do you think?”

“Of course there are. Everything that can make children happy.”

“As many toys as in Hamley’s shop?” asked Dimples.

“More,” said Daddy, stoutly.

“Oo!” from all three.

“Daddy, dear,” said Laddie. “I’ve been wondering about the deluge.”

“Yes, dear. What was it?”

“Well, the story about the Ark. All those animals were in the Ark, just two of each, for forty days. Wasn’t that so?”

“That is the story.”

“Well, then, what did the carnivorous animals eat?”

One should be honest with children and not put them off with ridiculous explanations. Their questions about such matters are generally much more sensible than their parents’ replies.

“Well, dear,” said Daddy, weighing his words, “these stories are very, very old. The Jews put them in the Bible, but they got them from the people in Babylon, and the people in Babylon probably got them from some one else away back in the beginning of things. If a story gets passed down like that, one person adds a little and another adds a little, and so you never get things quite as they happened. The Jews put it in the Bible exactly as they heard it, but it had been going about for thousands of years before then.”

“So it was not true?”

“Yes, I think it was true. I think there was a great flood, and I think that some people did escape, and that they saved their beasts, just as we should try to save Nigger and the Monkstown cocks and hens if we were flooded out. Then they were able to start again when the waters went down, and they were naturally very grateful to God for their escape.”