“Well, what is the end of this long story?” I asked.
“Well, the end of it is,” she answered very seriously, “he’s the best bed-maker in this particular kingdom of Heaven.”
I sat down on the trunk of a tree to laugh and stare at her.
But nothing ever seriously disturbed Sunbeam; instead, she sat on the grass and laughed too.
“Do you think it funny?” she asked.
“Why, yes,” I said.
“Tell me why,” she enjoined, half laughing, half serious. “Mother says we’re none the worse for seeing the funny side of things, but sometimes I can’t find it, and she says we ought not to strain after anything.”
“Well—” I began.
“Go on.”
“Well—” I began again.