Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/279

 Scobee played about, casting pebbles and stones into the water, watching the gradually increasing rippling circles. When he grew tired he returned to his mother and curled up in her lap.

"Why," he asked, "do stones always make circles when you throw them in the water? Why don't they make squares? Some of the stones were square."

His mother placed her cheek against the little blond head. "I guess," she said, "that the Frog People who look after such things have more circles than squares so naturally they use the circles. I don't think they object to squares but maybe circles are cheaper or easier to make. You know it is very hard to get the corners of squares even. You've got to have rulers and all kinds of things."

Scobee snuggled up into his mother's arms. Gee, it was nice to have a mother.

Ardell hummed softly to him. The sun grew even brighter. The river became like gold. All the white horses had disappeared from the sky. The breeze stirred more