“What _would_ make you happy?” said a thick, wheezy voice from the toy cupboard, and out rolled the big green and red india-rubber ball that Aunt Emma had sent them last week. They had not played with it much, because the garden was so hot and sunny—and when they wanted to play with it in the street, on the shady side, Aunt Selina had said it was not like respectable children, so they weren’t allowed. Now the Ball rolled out very slowly—and the bright light on its new paint seemed to make it wink at them. You will think that they were surprised to hear a ball speak. Not at all. As you grow up, and more and more strange things happen to you, you will find that the more astonishing a thing is the less it surprises you. (I wonder why this is. Think it over, and write and tell me what you think.) Selim stood up, and said, “Halloa”; but that was only out of politeness. Thomasina answered the Ball’s question. “We want to be at the seaside—and no aunts—and none of the things we don’t like—and no uncles, of course,” she said. “Well,” said the Ball, “if you think you can be good, why not set me bouncing?” “We’re not allowed in here,” said Thomasina, “because of the crinkly ornaments people give me on my birthdays.” “Well, the street then,” said the Ball; “the nice shady side.” “It’s not like respectable children,” said Selim sadly. The Ball laughed. If you have never heard an india-rubber ball laugh you won’t understand. It’s the sort of quicker, quicker, quicker, softer, softer, softer chuckle of a bounce that it gives when it’s settling down when you’re tired of bouncing it. “The garden, then,” it said. “I don’t mind, if you’ll go on talking,” said Selim kindly. So they took the Ball down into the garden and began to bounce it in the sun, on the dry, yellowy grass of the lawn. “Come on,” said the Ball. “You do like me!” “What?” said the children. “Why, do like I do—bounce!” said the Ball. “That’s right—higher, higher, higher!” For then and there the two children had begun bouncing as if their feet were india-rubber balls, and you have no idea what a delicious sensation that gives you. “Higher, higher,” cried the green and red ball, bouncing excitedly. “Now, follow me, higher, higher.” And off it bounced down the blackened gravel of the path, and the children bounced after it, shrieking with delight at the new feeling. They bounced over the wall—all three of them—and the children looked back just in time to see Uncle Thomas tapping at the window, and saying, “Don’t.”