"It's just the beautifullest place that ever was!" Garth said, blissfully looking up from his bowl of bread and milk. "There's lovely sheds, and a big bench with tools—they's rustier than your tools, Daddy!—and a stable, and such a jolly loft, with hay in it, and rats!"
"It sounds a jolly place," said his father. "Are there more rats than hay, or vice versa?"
"I didn't see any—-any of those things you said," answered Garth, slightly puzzled. "Do they run about?"
"Not as a rule," said Tom gravely. "Never mind; I dare say there are none. But are there many rats?"
"I only saw three, but I heard lots." Garth's tone was hopeful. "And Bran was awful excited. He couldn't get up the ladder, but he raced about down below, and barked like fun. Do you think you could carry him up to-morrow, Daddy? I tried, but it's a very steep ladder, and he wriggled."
"And who said you could climb up steep ladders?" asked his mother.
"But I couldn't have got up into the loft if I hadn't," said her son.
"That seems to settle it," said Tom, beginning to laugh. "We'll have to get used to these things, I suppose."
"I suppose so," Aileen agreed. "We really don't want a prim suburban son now. Only make me one promise, Garth, to keep my old mind easy—don't go near the water until Daddy has time to teach you to swim."
"I did go, to-day," confessed her son, "but I won't again. You'll teach me pretty quick, won't you, Daddy? And can I go near the little creek in the gully? It's the littlest ever—I can jump across it anywhere."