But so the world willed it. A father who had only love and no money--the sooner he was out of the way the better. He had had that unquestioned axiom ground into every bleeding fiber of his heart. “Oh, Father, Stevie got on his own coat and buttoned every....” “_Yubbers_ mineself too,” bragged Stephen breathlessly. “Teacher says the first half of my play....” They had come up to him now, clambering up and down him, clawing lovingly at him, all talking at once. What good times they had together Thursday afternoons! “Father, how does the ‘Walrus and the Carpenter’ go after ‘It seems a shame, the Walrus said’? Henry and I told Stevie that far, but we can’t remember any....” Lester Knapp swung Stephen up to his shoulder and took Henry and Helen by the hand. “It seems a shame, the Walrus said,” he began in the deep, mock-heroic voice they all adored, “To play them such a trick After we’ve brought them out so far And made them trot so quick.” “Oh, yes,” cried the older children. “Now we know!” And as they swung along together, they all intoned delightedly, “The Carpenter said nothing _but_ ‘The butter’s spread too thick!’” Chapter 6 Mrs. Anderson never forgot a detail of what happened that afternoon, and she soon became letter-perfect in her often-repeated statement of the essential facts. She told and retold her story word for word like a recitation learned by heart, without alteration; except as she allowed herself from time to time to stress a little more heavily her own importance as the only witness who had seen everything, to insist yet more vehemently on her absolute freedom from responsibility for the catastrophe.