"Poppies," answered the nurse. "They bring forgetfulness."
"Barbara," said the old man, sadly, "I wish I could help you bear it——"
"So you can, Daddy."
"But how?"
"Don't be afraid for me—it's coming out all right. And make me a little song."
"I couldn't—to-day."
"There is always a song," she reminded him. "Think how many times you have said to me, 'Always make a song, Barbara, no matter what comes.'"
The old man stirred uneasily in his chair. "What about, dear?"
"About the sea."
Song of the Sea