hildren, of course. Come up. We're having sport."

The three children ran across the barn to a ladder and scrambled up and
disappeared through a trap door at the top. Eric followed. The attic was
full of hay in mountains and little hills,--hay and hay and hay. He
followed the children around the biggest mountain, through a tunnel--and
there they vanished!

He found the hole in the stable ceiling and looked down. Not very far
below him was the manger full of hay and red-headed children. "Look out
down there! Whoop!" cried Eric, and dropped, landing among them.

Then the four laughed heartily together and ran across the barn again,
up the ladder, around the hay mountain and dropped down the hole. They
did that dozens of times until they were tired of it.

Then they played hide-and-go-seek in the hay country, and after that
Blind Man's Buff in the barn below. The little girl was Blind Man first.
They tied a red handkerchief tight over her eyes. Then they ran about,
dodging her, calling her, laughing at her groping hands and hesitating
steps. But after a few minutes she became accustomed to the darkness and
ran and jumped about after them until they had to be very wary and swift
indeed. Soon she caught Eric and then he was Blind Man.

By and by they played tag, just plain tag, and Eric liked that best of
all. Back and forth across the great room they raced,--up the ladder,
over the hay, through the hole into the stable, round and round, in and
out, up and down until they were too tired and hot for any more.

Then they lay up in the hay where there was a little window, looking far
out across the meadows.

Eric saw Ivra out there in the first field, wandering around alone and
now and then looking up at the barn. She must have heard their shouts
and laughter. He pointed her out to the other children. "That is my
playmate out there," he said. "Let's open the window and call to her to
come up. She'll tell us stories."

The children looked out eagerly. "But there's nobody there," they said.

Eric laughed. "No, look!" He pointed with his finger. "Over there by the
white birch. Look! She sees us." He waved. "Quick, help me open the
window."

He could not find the catch. The window was draped with cobwebs and
dusty with the dust of years. It looked as though it had never been
opened.

The little red-headed girl put her hand on his arm. She was laughing.
"Don't be silly," she said. "There's no one by the white birch. You'