ting-room. Toot busied himself com-
ing and going on this errand and on
that, fastening the doors, closing the
windows, running out to see to the ani-
mals, and coming back again. Father
and mother set the table. They kept
close together; and now and then they
looked over at me, without saying any-
thing, but with shining eyes.

The storm died down to a quiet rain.
From the roof of the porch the drops
fell in silver strings, like beads. Then
the sun came out and turned them into
shining crystal. The birds began to
sing again, and when we threw open the
windows delicious odours of fresh earth
and flowering shrub greeted us. Mother
began to sing as she worked. And I
sank softly to sleep, thrilled with the
marvels of the world -- not of the tem-
pest, but of the peace.

The sweet familiarity of the faces
and the walls and the furniture and the
garden was like a blessing. There was
not a chair there that I would have ex-
changed for any other chair -- not a tree
that I would have parted with -- not a
custom of that simple, busy place that