ant.

Everychild pondered a little, and then it seemed that he saw a sort of
vision. "It makes you think of dark forests," he said, "--the very
middle of them. And it makes you think of old ruined castles, with
nothing living about them any more but the ivy climbing up on the
broken walls."

The giant's eyes were shining in the gloom. "And what else?" he asked
softly.

"And then you think of the castles as they used to be, long ago. When
there were bright lights in them, and knights and ladies, and music,
and maybe a--what do you call them?--a harper to come in out of the
storm to sit beside the fireplace and tell tales." He seemed unable to
fill in the picture more completely, but Will o'Dreams began where he
had left off:

"And do you know what is true, as long as you think of the knights and
ladies? It means that they are still living. That's what thinking of
things means--it means keeping them alive. Most persons die when their
children are all dead: at the very latest, when their grandchildren
die. But as long as you think of knights and ladies, and picture their
ways, why, that keeps them alive. It means that they will never die.
That is, as long as there are owls to hoot." He added with a hidden
smile, "And as long as I idle about in old attics."

"It is very strange," said Everychild, not clearly understanding.

"It just needs a little thinking about," declared the giant. "And it's
not only in attics that I'm able to help. That old garden we played in
to-day . . . do you know what would happen, if certain persons came
into it while I was there?"

As Everychild did not know, the giant continued: "They would see the
columbine growing; and straightway they would think of a poor lady
named Ophelia; and then they would think of Shakespeare; and then they
would think of the river Avon; and then they would think of lovely
English meadows, and then they would think of the sea--because the Avon
finally reaches it, you know--and then they would think of ships, and
then of Columbus, and then of America, and then of millions of new
gardens where the columbine of England found new homes."

Everychild was trying to see the pictures as they passed; but he could
not quite keep up. And after Will o'Dreams had finished he remained
silent, going over it all in his mind.

But the giant interrupted him. "There," he said, "we ought not to stay
up too late. You know we want to make an early start to-morrow."