"You wouldn't actually--wreck a boat would you?" said my Father. My Mother stopped tossing her head. And waving her hands. She gave a little sigh. She began mending my Father again very hard. "Just----pirates," she said. "O--h," said my Father. "We intended to make the next one about 'Motions,'" I explained. "But it was too hard. Carol wanted to be an Elevator!--Carol says an Elevator is like quick-silver in a giant thermometer that's gone mad!--He wanted to be the motion it makes when the Elevator's going down and the floor's coming up! But it made me feel queer in my stomach!" "Merciful Heavens!" said my Father. "What kind of a family have I drawn?--My Wife wants to be a 'Storm at Sea' and my Son aspires to feel like an 'Elevator Gone Mad'!" Carol looked at my Mother. My Mother looked at Carol. They laughed their eyes together. "So we made it 'Money' and 'Memory' instead," I explained. "Made what 'Money' and 'Memory' instead?" said my Father. "The next two questions," I explained. "O--h," said my Mother. "Fire away!" said my Father. "Question No. 4," I said. "Which do you like best? _Times?_ or _Things?_" "Times or Things?" said my Father. "Whatever in the world do you mean?" His eyebrows looked pretty puzzled. "Why, we mean," I explained, "if somebody gave you five whole dollars for your birthday--how would you rather spend it?--What would you get most fun out of, we mean?--_Times?_ Or _Things?_--Would you be most apt to spend it for Rabbits, we mean? Or going to a Fair?" "Oh," said my Father, "I see!--Times or Things?--Times--or things?--Why _Things_!" he decided almost at once. "_Things_ of course!--When you buy a _Thing_ you've got something really tangible for your money! Something definite! Something really to show!--'Rabbits' I admit would probably not 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.