t wanted cutting. Every blade was a small tree, round
whose trunk the beetle had to glide. Little Jon stretched out Sir
Lamorac, feet foremost, and stirred the creature up. It scuttled
painfully. Little Jon laughed, lost interest, and sighed. His heart
felt empty. He turned over and lay on his back. There was a scent of
honey from the lime trees in flower, and in the sky the blue was
beautiful, with a few white clouds which looked and perhaps tasted like
lemon ice. He could hear Bob playing: "Way down upon de Suwannee ribber"
on his concertina, and it made him nice and sad. He turned over again
and put his ear to the ground--Indians could hear things coming ever so
far--but he could hear nothing--only the concertina! And almost
instantly he did hear a grinding sound, a faint toot. Yes! it was a
car--coming--coming! Up he jumped. Should he wait in the porch, or rush
upstairs, and as they came in, shout: "Look!" and slide slowly down the
banisters, head foremost? Should he? The car turned in at the drive. It
was too late! And he only waited, jumping up and down in his excitement.
The car came quickly, whirred, and stopped. His father got out, exactly
like life. He bent down and little Jon bobbed up--they bumped. His
father said,

"Bless us! Well, old man, you are brown!" Just as he would; and the
sense of expectation--of something wanted--bubbled unextinguished in
little Jon. Then, with a long, shy look he saw his mother, in a blue
dress, with a blue motor scarf over her cap and hair, smiling. He jumped
as high as ever he could, twined his legs behind her back, and hugged.
He heard her gasp, and felt her hugging back. His eyes, very dark blue
just then, looked into hers, very dark brown, till her lips closed on his
eyebrow, and, squeezing with all his might, he heard her creak and laugh,
and say:

"You are strong, Jon!"

He slid down at that, and rushed into the hall, dragging her by the hand.

While he was eating his jam beneath the oak tree, he noticed things about
his mother that he had never seemed to see before, her cheeks for
instance were creamy, there were silver threads in her dark goldy hair,
her throat had no knob in it like Bella's, and she went in and out
softly. He noticed, too, some little lines running away from the corners
of her eyes, and a nice darkness under them. She was ever so beautiful,
more beautiful than "Da" or Mademoiselle, or "Auntie" June or even
"Auntie" Holly, to