ok-writing.Butnow,tomypillowandtomydreams."

    IwokeSmaoladBékaandOnionswiththesamerequestandutoffbyeamuchthesameway.Despitemyexcitement,Idrewnothingbuttiredglaresatbreakfastthem,andonlyafterthewholehadtheirfilldidIdareaskagain.

    "Iamwritingabook,"Iannounced,"aboutHenryDayIknowthebroadstorythatSpeckgavemebeforesheleft,andnowIneedyoutofilliails.PretendImabouttomakethege,andgivemethereportonHenryDay."

    "Oh,Irememberyou,"Onionsbegan."Youwereababyfoundlinginthewoods.Yourmotheredyouinswaddlingclothesandlaidyouatthegreyhoundsshrine."

    "No,no,no,"saidBéka."Youaremistaken.TheinalHenryDaywasnotaHenryatall,butowoidenticaltwingirls,ElspethandMaribel."

    "Youareb,"saidChavisory."Hewasaboy,acute,smartboywholivedinahouseatthetipoftheforestwithhismotherandfatherandtwobabytwinsisters."

    "Thatsright,"saidLuchóg."MaryandElizabeth.Twolittlecurly-tops,fataslambchops."

    "Youcouldnthavebeehaornine,"saidChavisory.

    "Seven,"saidSmaolach."Hewassevenwhenwenabbedhim."

    "Areyousure?"askedOnions."Couldasworehewasjustababy."

    Theversationtihisfashionfortherestoftheday,intestedbitesofinformation,ahattheendofthediscussionwasthedistantcousinofthetruthatthebeginning.Allthroughthesummerandintothefall,Ipepperedthemseparatelyandtogetherwithmyqueries.Sometimesananswer,whenbihmyprodigalmemoryorthevisualcue