I often take Little Frank home there. He is
very welcome to my grandchildren, and they play together. At this
time of the year--the Christmas and New Year time--I am seldom out
of my Castle. For, the associations of the season seem to hold me
there, and the precepts of the season seem to teach me that it is
well to be there.
"And the Castle is--" observed a grave, kind voice among the
company.
"Yes. My Castle," said the poor relation, shaking his head as he
still looked at the fire, "is in the Air. John our esteemed host
suggests its situation accurately. My Castle is in the Air! I have
done. Will you be so good as to pass the story?"
THE CHILD'S STORY
Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveller, and
he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to seem
very long when he began it, and very short when he got half way
through.
He travelled along a rather dark path for some little time, without
meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful child. So he
said to the child, "What do you do here?" And the child said, "I am
always at play. Come and play with me!"
So, he played with that child, the whole day long, and they were
very merry. The sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water
was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so
lovely, and they heard such singing-birds and saw so many butteries,
that everything was beautiful.
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