left," before
going off to France again, and Mother was buying wool to make him some
more socks. It was a great relief to them to know that they were being
taken this time, and that they would have Jenny to tell them all about
it.

Father is lying in a deck-chair, smoking his pipe. There has been an
interesting discussion this afternoon as to whether he is a coward or
not. Father thought he wasn't, but Mother wasn't quite so sure. Jenny
said that of course he couldn't really be, because the King gave him a
medal for not being one, but Mother explained that it was only a medal he
had over, and Father happened to be passing by the window.

"I don't see what this has to do with it," said Father. "I simply prefer
bathing in the morning."

"Oo, you said this morning you preferred bathing in the afternoon," says
Jenny like a flash.

"I know; but since then I've had time to think it over, and I see that I
was hasty. The morning is the best time."

"I'm afraid he _is_ a coward," said Mother sadly, wondering why she had
married him.

"The whole point is, why did Jenny bring me here?"

"To enjoy yourself," said Jenny promptly.

"Well, I am," said Father, closing his eyes.

But we do not feel so sure that Mother is enjoying herself. She has just
read in the paper about a mine that floated ashore and exploded. Nobody
was near at the time, but supposing one of the children had been playing
with it.

"Which one?" said Father lazily.

"Jenny."

"Then we should have lost Jenny."

This being so, Jenny promises solemnly not to play with any mine that
comes ashore, nor to let Richard Henry play with it, nor to allow it to
play with Richard Henry, nor--

"I suppose I may just point it out to him and say, 'Look, that's a
mine'?" says Jenny wistfully. If she can't do this, it doesn't seem to be
much use coming to the seaside at all.

"I don't think there would be any harm in that," says Father. "But don't
engage it in conversation."

"Thank you very much," says Jenny, and she and Richard Henry go off
together.

Mother watches them anxiously. Father closes his eyes.

"Now," says Jenny eagerly, "I'm going to show you a darling little crab.
Won't that be lovely?"

Richard Henry, having been deceived, as he feels, about the sea, is not
too hopeful about that crab. However, he asks politely, "What's a crab?"

"You'll see directly, darling," says Jenny; and he has to be content with
that.

"Crab," he murmurs to himse