Eric opened his mouth to say, “Hello,” but kept it open, silent in amazement, for another child had shot through the ceiling and landed beside the girl.  This was a boy.  He was red-headed, too, freckle-faced and snub-nosed.  He looked even jollier than the girl.

Before Eric had closed his mouth on his amazement, “Whoop!” and down came another boy.  This boy was red-haired, freckle-faced and snub-nosed, and he looked jollier than the other two put together, if that were possible, for his red hair curled in saucy, tight little ringlets, and his mouth was wide with smiles.

It was this last one who said, “Hello, who are you?”

“Eric,—­who are you?”

“Nora’s grandchildren, of course.  Come up.  We’re having sport.”

The three children ran across the barn to a ladder and scrambled up and disappeared through a trap door at the top.  Eric followed.  The attic was full of hay in mountains and little hills,—­hay and hay and hay.  He followed the children around the biggest mountain, through a tunnel—­and there they vanished!

He found the hole in the stable ceiling and looked down.  Not very far below him was the manger full of hay and red-headed children.  “Look out down there!  Whoop!” cried Eric, and dropped, landing among them.

Then the four laughed heartily together and ran across the barn again, up the ladder, around the hay mountain and dropped down the hole.  They did that dozens of times until they were tired of it.

Then they played hide-and-go-seek in the hay country, and after that Blind Man’s Buff in the barn below.  The little girl was Blind Man first.  They tied a red handkerchief tight over her eyes.  Then they ran about, dodging her, calling her, laughing at her groping hands and hesitating steps.  But after a few minutes she became accustomed to the darkness and ran and jumped about after them until they had to be very wary and swift indeed.  Soon she caught Eric and then he was Blind Man.

By and by they played tag, just plain tag, and Eric liked that best of all.  Back and forth across the great room they raced,—­up the ladder, over the hay, through the hole into the stable, round and round, in and out, up and down until they were too tired and hot for any more.

Then they lay up in the hay where there was a little window, looking far out across the meadows.

Eric saw Ivra out there in the first field, wandering around alone and now and then looking up at the barn.  She must have heard their shouts and laughter.  He pointed her out to the other children.  “That is my playmate out there,” he said.  “Let’s open the window and call to her to come up.  She’ll tell us stories.”

The children looked out eagerly.  “But there’s nobody there,” they said.

Eric laughed.  “No, look!” He pointed with his finger.  “Over there by the white birch.  Look!  She sees us.”  He waved.  “Quick, help me open the window.”