l Father and Mother,--what Beautiful Sound in the whole wide
world would you choose to be?"

My Father felt better almost at once.

"Oh Pshaw!" he said. "That's easy. I'd be the Sound of Gold Pieces
jingling in the pocket of a man--of a man--" He looked at my Mother.
"--Of a man who had a Brown-Eyed Wife who looked something like my
Brown-Eyed Wife--and three children whose names--when you spoke 'em
quickly sounded very similar--yes, very similar indeed to 'Ruthy' and
'Carol' and 'Rosalee'!"

"Oh what nonsense!" said my Mother.

"What does the jingle of Gold Pieces amount to?--Now if I could be any
Sound I wanted to--I'd choose to be the sweet--soft--breathy little
_stir_ that a nice little family makes when it wakes up in the
morning--so that no matter how much you've worried during the long black
night you can feel at once that everything's all right! And that
everybody's all there!--In all the world," cried my Mother, "I know of
no sweeter sound than the sound of a nice little family--waking up in
the morning!"

I turned to Carol's page. I laughed and laughed. "Bubbling Fat is what
Carol would like to sound like!" I cried. "The noise that Bubbling Fat
makes when you drop doughnuts into it!--But I?--If I could be any lovely
Sound I wanted to,--I'd like to be the Sound of Rain on a Tin Roof--at
night! All over the world people would be lying awake listening to you!
And even if they didn't want to listen they'd have to! Till you were
good and ready to stop!"

It took Carol a good while to write down everything about "Gold Pieces"
and a "Nice Little Family waking up in the Morning" and "Rain on a Tin
Roof."

"The next question is pretty hard," I explained. "Maybe you'd like to be
thinking about it.--If you were a Beautiful Sight--that people came
miles to see,--what Beautiful Sight in the whole wide world would you
choose to be?"

My Father didn't wait a minute. "A Field of Tulips!" he said.

Carol pounded the table with his fists. His face was like an explosion
of smiles. He pointed to my Father's page in the Book.

"It's already written!" I said. "We guessed it all the time!"

We turned to my Mother. We saw a little quiver go through my Mother's
shoulders.

"I'd choose to be a Storm at Sea!" said my Mother.

"_What?_" cried my Father.

"A Storm at Sea!" said my Mother.

My Father stopped saying "What?" And made a little gasping sound
instead. "_You?_--_You?_" he said. "The gentlest soul that ever
b