But the Wind was not so much concerned with that. She only grieved and grieved for the Special Baby. And the Great Black Hush comforted her, and I think he comforts her unto this day.
Only at night. Then, as you know, the Great Black Hush comes from the Outermost Way and fills the air, and with him often and often comes the Wind. And together they wander among all the shining balls—you will know this, if you listen, on many a night—and together they look for the Special Baby. But he has grown up, long and long ago, only he still stretches out his hands to everything, for he is the way he was made.
XVIII
THE DECORATION OF INDEPENDENCE
That year we celebrated Fourth of July in the Wood Yard.
The town had decided not to have a celebration, though we did not know who had done the actual deciding, and this we used to talk about.
“How can the town decide anything?” Delia asked sceptically. “When does it do it?”
“Why,” said Margaret Amelia—to whom, her father being a judge, we always turned to explain matters of state, “its principal folks say so.”
“Who are its principal folks?” I demanded.
“Why,” said Margaret Amelia, “I should think you could tell that. They have the stores and offices and live in the residence part.”