I think of the little animals having a feast among the trees, and feel glad they can get at the food. I slip down so that my head isn't cold, pull up my knees and wrap my arms around myself. I feel cozy. *** 'What happened the next day?' I asked.
'Wait and see,' Roger grinned.
The Little Old Man's Strange Story
When Suzanne and Roger left after the last story they were mysterious about the next one, except that they did tell me to bring along a sandwich. The next morning, when we gathered at Three Palms, we each had a bag with sandwiches, cookies, and a container of milk.
'I took you seriously yesterday,' I said, waving my bag.
'Good that you did,' Suzanne answered as she settled down on to the sand. 'Are you ready?'
'Yes,' I said, 'I'm ready. Which of you will tell this one?'
'We're going to have to share this one.' Roger leaned back as he spoke. 'I'll start.' *** The next morning, bright and early, Suzanne and I have our breakfast and hurry to brush our teeth. We're dressed and anxious to be on our way. When Mother and Dad are ready we head for the trail. We're are on our way to visit the Little Old Man on the other side of the island.
This Little Old Man is not just an ordinary old man. He's special. He lives in an old stone hut near the sea cliffs. The house is tiny; only the Little Old Man can get into it, and he does that only to sleep or for shelter on rainy days. The rest of the time he sits outside and children come from all over to sit near him and listen to his stories. That's why we're excited this morning. We want to hear one of the Little Old Man's world-famous stories.
The trail across the island is wide and not too long. We get there in time to join a crowd of children and parents who are walking around or sitting on the ground in a half-circle, waiting.