“Where are father and mother?” he asked, turning to his brother. The other little boy gazed bewilderedly back at him and echoed: “Where are father and mother?” Then the two little fellows sat down in the sand and began to talk to one another in a queer little old-fashioned way of their own. “Grandfathers and grandmothers are very good,” said Little Waking Eyes. “Very good,” repeated Little Sleeping Eyes. “They give us lots of nice things.” “Lots of nice things!” “Balls and balloons and puff puffs and kitties.” “Balls and balloons and puff puffs and kitties.” “The puppet show is very beautiful!” “Very beautiful!” “And grandfathers fly kites and puff fire flowers!” “Fly kites and puff fire flowers!” “And grandmothers have cakes and sweeties.” “Cakes and sweeties!” “But where are father and mother?” Little Waking Eyes and Little Sleeping Eyes again searched each other’s faces; but neither could answer the other’s question. Their little mouths drooped pathetically; they propped their chubby little faces in their hands and heaved queer little sighs. There were father and mother one time—always, always; father and mother and Sung Sung. Then there was the big ship and Sung Sung only, and the big water. After the big water, grandfathers and grandmothers; and Little Waking Eyes had gone to live with one grandfather and grandmother, and Little Sleeping Eyes had gone to live with another grandfather and grandmother. And the old Sung Sung had gone away and two new Sung Sungs had come. And Little Waking Eyes and Little Sleeping Eyes had been good and had not cried at all. Had not father and mother said that grandfathers and grandmothers were just the same as fathers and mothers? “Just the same as fathers and mothers,” repeated Little Waking Eyes to Little Sleeping Eyes, and Little Sleeping Eyes nodded his head and solemnly repeated: “Just the same as fathers and mothers.” Then all of a sudden Little Waking Eyes stood up, rubbed his fists into his eyes and shouted: “I want my father and mother; I want my father and mother!” And Little Sleeping Eyes also stood up and echoed strong and bold: “I want my father and mother; I want my father and mother.” It was the day of rebellion of the sons of Liu Venti and Pau Tsu. When the two new Sung Sungs who had been having their fortunes told by an itinerant fortune-teller whom they had met some distance down the beach, returned to where they had left their young charges, and found them not, they were greatly perturbed and rent the air with their cries. Where could the children have gone? The beach was a lonely one, several miles from the seaport city where lived the grandparents of the children. Behind the beach, the bare land rose for a little way back up the sides and across hills to meet a forest dark and dense.