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 “Oh, well, now, of course, I meant a horse. I meant a horse most before anything else except a place to keep him. You can’t have a horse without a place to keep him. That’s been my trouble for years. I could a-had a horse almost any time. There wasn’t any stable for him and not any alfalfa or oats or anybody to keep the stable clean. That’s been my trouble all along. A horse, of course!”

“And a boat, of course,” suggested Jamie. “The ocean isn’t very much good without a boat now, is it?”

The little Scout hesitated. “Oh, well, of course, with the ocean at our back door, of course, now, we could use a boat. The Bee Master told me once why he put the fence where he did, but he said he owned clear down to the water. A man wanted to buy his shore line and put a hot-dog stand there and he decided he couldn’t have it because we could get hot dogs down at the corner. The Bee Master said that one of the finest men who ever lived in England, one of the biggest credits to that fine old land was a man, and his name was William Blackstone. He made me say over and over about the hot-dog stand what William Blackstone said. I’ll tell you now.”

The little Scout stepped in front of Jamie, brought small heels together, squared lean shoulders, lifted a chin, and accomplished a nobility of countenance that was startling. Jamie did not understand how it happened that a tear-smeared face, that sand-filled tow hair, sanded brows and ears could take on the look of dignity and serenity that was on the face of the youngster in the delivery of this