(with apologies to Kipling)

Long ago, O Mostly Liked, or maybe last weekend, there was a mother who lived on a hill called Janderhil. And she had four little children that she called her own: Ephraim Eldest, Clive Contrary, the pretty baby Elvie Kate, who smiled and sang but didn’t say much, and Anselm. And all morning and all evening the children played out-of-doors, except of course the pretty baby Elvie Kate, who smiled and sang but didn’t say much, as she couldn’t get around on her own just yet. She stayed in-of-doors with her Mother, but the other three played and frolicked out-of-doors until the sun set and the fireflies came out.

And it was one day after dinner, which was scrumptious and nutritious, that the Mother went out-of-doors herself, because Elvie Kate (who smiled and sang but didn’t say much) was already asleep for the night, and because she had some work to do in the flower-beds. And she called Ephraim Eldest to herself, and said:

“Ephraim Eldest, I am working in the flower-beds, digging a trench for a border of bricks. Would you like to help me dig the trench?”

And Ephraim Eldest, who is fond of most sorts of Work, decided at once to help, though he couldn’t decide if he preferred using his little yellow shovel or his little blue hoe for the job, so he solved the conundrum by using them in turns. And he helped dig the trench for the border of bricks that would go about the garden, only sometimes he forget what he was doing and dug in the garden instead.

Then the Mother called Clive Contrary to herself, and said:

“Clive, (for she hesitated to call him Contrary to his face) I am working in the flower-beds, digging a trench for a border of bricks. Would you like to help me carry the bricks?”

And Clive Contrary, who was as curious as he was contradictory, said that he wouldn’t help to carry the bricks, but he would sit very closely to the pile of bricks and ply the Mother with questions when she happened to walk near, which was fairly often because she was carrying the bricks only three at a time.

Then the Mother called Anselm to herself and said:

“Anselm, I am working in the garden, digging a trench for a border of bricks. Would you like…say, Anselm! Where are you?”

And Anselm didn’t hear her, because he is The Toddler Who Walked By Himself (with apologies to Kipling) and he had gone back behind The Ham House to see what the Little Red Tractor was doing. (It was just sitting there, like always.) And when he finally heard his name being called, he peeked out from behind the Little Red Tractor so the Mother could see that he was perfectly fine and perfectly happy, as he was The Toddler Who Walked By Himself (with apologies to Kipling) and “all places were alike to him” but he did prefer the Tractor to gardening, so thanks ever-so.

And when the trench was finished and the bricks carried and laid into it, the Mother fetched a bag of red mulch. And she called Ephraim Eldest to herself, and said:

‘Ephraim Eldest, I am now going to spread the red mulch amongst the flowers to make everything pretty. Would you like to help me shovel the mulch into the flower-beds?”

And Ephraim Eldest, who really did love to work, got his little yellow shovel and shoveled the red mulch into a pile on the flower-beds, so that the Mother didn’t have to reach into the bag for it. Only sometimes he forgot and shoveled it onto the border of bricks instead, which were nearly the same color as the mulch and therefore exceptionally fascinating.

Then the Mother called Clive Contrary to herself and said:

“Clive, (for she really didn’t want to call him Contrary to his face) I am now going to spread the red mulch amongst the flowers to make everything pretty. Would you like to help me sprinkle the mulch in-between the flowers?”

And Clive Contrary, who really was as curious as he was contradictory, said that he wouldn’t help to sprinkle the mulch, but he would sit very closely to the flower-beds and ply the Mother with questions as she worked until she reminded him of some other sort of play that he had really wanted to do in the backyard.

Then the Mother called Anselm to herself, and said:

“Anselm, I am now spreading the red mulch amongst the flowers to make everything pretty. Would you…hey, Anselm! Where are you!”

And Anselm didn’t hear her, because he is The Toddler Who Walked By Himself (with apologies to Kipling) and had left the Little Red Tractor which was behind The Ham House and had wandered over to the Bulldozer to see what it was doing. (It was just sitting there, like always.) And when he finally heard his name being called, he peeked out from behind the Bulldozer so that the Mother could see that he was perfectly fine and perfectly happy, as he was The Toddler Who Walked By Himself (with apologies to Kipling) and “all places were alike to him”, but he did prefer the Bulldozer to red mulch, so thanks ever-so.

And after the mulch was spread and the sun was beginning to set and the fireflies were coming out, the Mother knew it was time to bring her children in-of-doors for bedtime (all except for Elvie Kate, who smiled and sang but didn’t say much, Oh Mostly Liked, because she was already in bed.) And the Mother called Ephraim Eldest to herself, and said:

“Ephraim Eldest, the sun is setting and the fireflies are coming out, and it is time to come in the house for a bath and for bed and for a story.”

And Ephraim Eldest, who loved baths and bedtime and stories, came in-of-doors and to get ready for the bathtub, only he forgot and started playing with his toy cars instead.

Then the Mother called Clive Contrary to herself, and said:

“Clive, (she did so dislike calling him Contrary to his face!) the sun is setting and the fireflies are coming out, and it is time to come in the house for a bath and for bed and for a story.”

And Clive Contrary, who was every bit as curious as he was contradictory,  asked why was the sun setting, and what did “the sun” mean, and where did the fireflies live when they weren’t out, and why did they live there, and what were they blinking for, and where was the sun going now it was set, and why was it going there, and what would it do once it got there, and why was it…But the Mother had already shooed him indoors before he could finish that last bit.

Then the Mother called Anselm to herself, and said:

“Anselm, the sun is setting and the fireflies are coming out, and it’s time to…Anselm! Where on Earth do you think you’re going!”

Because Anselm, who was The Toddler Who Walked By Himself (with apologies to Kipling), was already halfway across the Eastern Yard and headed towards the rocks where the wild black raspberries grow, which he doesn’t like to eat, but does like to pick off the prickly bush and drop onto the ground, just Because. And when he heard his name being called, he stopped and turned and gestured emphatically, and said something that sounded like gibberish but probably meant “I’m The Toddler Who Walks By Himself (with apologies to Kipling) and all places are alike to me, and I’m going to the Black-Raspberry Rocks to pick berries and drop them on the ground just Because.”

And the Mother said, “Oh no you’re not, you’re coming to inside for a bath and for bed and for a story!”

And Anselm (who was The Toddler Who Walked By Himself) gestured more emphatically than ever and said something in gibberish that probably meant “Why don’t you come and make me?”

So the Mother did.

And so it was that the sun did set, and the fireflies came out and went back in, and the children were bathed and put to bed and read a story (all except Elvie Kate, who smiled and sang but didn’t say much, O Mostly Liked, because she was already in bed.) And the Mother put herself to bed too, O Mostly Liked, and that was that!