t be my choice.--But a book, now! A set of garden tools?--A
pair of rubber boots even?"

"N--o," said my Mother very softly, "I'm almost sure I'd rather 'go to
the Fair'!--'_Times_' or '_Things_'?--Yes I'm perfectly positive," she
cried out, "that _Times_ give me more pleasure than _Things_ do!--Now
that I think of it I can see quite plainly that always--always I've
preferred to spend my money 'going to the Fair'!"

"Yes, but how foolish," said my Father. "When the Fair's over it's
over!--Nothing left to show for it but just a memory."

My Mother laughed right out loud. It was the prettiest laugh.

"Now that's where you're mistaken!" she laughed. "When the Fair's what
you call 'over,'--that's the time it's really _just begun_!--Books get
lost--or puppies chew them! Garden tools rust! Even the best rubber
boots in the world get the most awful holes poked through their
toes!--But a Happy Memory?--A Happy Memory--?" She jumped up suddenly
and crept into my Father's arms.

My Father stroked her hair. And stroked it.

Carol kicked me in the shins.

"There's only one more question!" I cried out pretty loud.

"What is it?" said my Mother. It sounded pretty mumbly through my
Father's shoulder.

"Oh this one is very important," I said. "It's about _colors_."

"Colors?" said my Father. He didn't seem to care nearly as much as you'd
have thought he would.

"C--Colors," mumbled my Mother.

"Somewhere in a book," I explained, "we read about a man who wanted his
memory 'kept green?'--Why _green?_ Why not pink?--Why not blue?--Or
even red with a cunning little white line in it?"

"_Eh?_" said my Father.

"If you were going away," I explained.

My Mother's hands clutched at his coat. She gave a queer little shiver.
"Oh not--'away'!" she protested.

"For ever and ever," I explained.

My Mother's face came peering out from the shadow of my Father's
shoulder. She started to laugh. And made a little sob instead. "Oh not
for----ever----and _ever_?" she said.

We all sat and looked at each other. I felt awful queer in my stomach.

Carol kicked me in the shins. He wrote something quick on a piece of
paper and shoved it across the table at me.

"_China_ was the place that Carol meant!" I explained. "Oh he didn't
mean--at all--what you thought he meant!--If you were going away to--to
_China_--for ever and ever--and ever--and gave your Best Friend a whole
lot of money like twenty-five dollars to remember you by--what col