“He is queerly interesting, for he sits and looks at Cynthia in a meek, adoring way, while his big solemn blue eyes keep up a blinking that have made the kiddies—you know boys always feature peculiarities—dub him, ‘The Blink.’ As to other details, he’s insignificant-looking, with a shock of yellow hair that gives him an unkempt, Hunnish appearance, and a sharp, ferret-like nose with an inquisitive tip on it that is sunburned to a bright red. Imagine! “Now for funny number one. The Blink—we all unconsciously call him that—and the make-believe lady—that’s the boys’ name for Cynthia—have monopolized the hammock on the veranda ever since the gentleman’s arrival. It has been annoying, for they—Well, they spoon, and it gets on one’s nerves, and after a while these lovers are the star performers on the stage. “The other morning I caught Danny and Tony fooling with the hammock. They said they were fixing it so it wouldn’t slip down. That evening every one had disappeared but your lonesome and the lovers, who were in the hammock with arms intertwined, with the usual turtle-dove cooing. “All at once I heard a queer sound, and looked in the direction from which it proceeded, to see two pairs of legs sweeping through the air with a wild, frantic clawing, while shrill cries and a swear-word informed me that the hammock had turned over, and that the pair of love-makers were standing on their heads. I tried not to laugh, but a wee little giggle slipped out, and then I flew to the rescue and turned down, or turned up, Cynthia’s skirts, and then gave a helping hand to The Blink, who rose to his feet with a wild, bewildered stare in his blinking eyes. Then I flew, for if I hadn’t, I should have collapsed with merriment, for, as it was, I was stuffing my handkerchief in my mouth to keep in my laughter. “As I flew through the hall queer sounds arrested my flight, and there, on the floor, were those two kids, Danny and Tony, rolling about in exultant joy, while emitting squeals of delighted glee. And then I knew _why_ they had been fooling with the hammock that morning. I was smothering with laughter, but grabbed each one by an ear and marched them to mother, with appropriate explanations, leaving her to administer the punishment they deserved. Naturally Cynthia blamed me, insisting that I had encouraged the boys in their mischief, and hasn’t spoken to me since.