Girls were creatures outside my circle of experience. Indeed, so little did I know of them that I wasn't even bashful at this sudden apparition. I returned stare for stare, taking very precise notice of the little figure before me. The round dark eyes, the disordered locks, the curving lips, full and red, the slightly tilted nose, the freckles about the brow, all spoke of qualities I could well appreciate. Here was a spirit to match my own, if the signs weren't false. Here was a courage, a wildness, a passion. And that ringing cry of "Daddy, daddy!" awoke echoes in my own heart. I knew at once that I had found a companion; nor did I share that contempt for girls which I have since found is so usual with boys, perhaps because I was ignorant of the tactics of sisters so well calculated to move brothers to disgust and misappreciation of the whole sex. Indeed I hardly said to myself: This is a girl. All I thought was: Here is a companion; we shall be able to play together. And her name was Jenny. I moved my lips as though to speak it. I thought I liked it. It was a name one could shout or whisper. It had a familiar, everyday sound; yet wasn't weak or faded or colourless. She turned suddenly away from me, and I found myself wiping my hand across my lips. She looked up at her father and said, "You've brought him, daddy? He's for me?" At that I opened my eyes, and her father laughed. Jenny turned to me and said, "Daddy told me you would come soon. You're to play with me." Then she added, "I like you." All this was a puzzle to me, and I looked to her father for some explanation; but he was still chuckling with amusement. It was Jenny who gave me a clue to the mystery. "I haven't got a brother," she said. "I want you to play with me. Daddy promised." "We'll play hide-and-seek," I answered. "I'll go and hide," she cried, darting away. But she came racing back to ask my name. "Tommy," I said. "Tommy," she repeated, as though asking herself whether it would do. "Yes," she nodded, as it might be in approval, and was off again. I turned my face to the wall and began to count. I heard Jenny's father move away. "Sir," I cried, "how many?" "How many?" he repeated. "How many must I count," I explained. "Never mind how many," he answered with a little laugh, "but mind you catch her." "Oh, I'll catch her," I asserted confidently. "Don't you be too sure," he said, still amused at some jest which escaped me. "She's slippery." "I'll hold her tight," I declared. At that he went, still chuckling a little to himself; and I started on my quest, little realizing the significance of that first step in the pursuit of Jenny.