One day, the children had wanted to get up onto General Burnside's horse. They wanted to see what his back felt like -- the General's. He looked so comfortable being straight. They wanted to touch the mystery. Arlene was boosting them up when the policeman came by.

He was very rude.

Arlene had a hard voice, too, this time. The policeman's eyes rather popped for a second; but then Arlene got another tone in a hurry, and she said, ``If it wasn't for these dear children'' --.

The policeman got a confused, funny look on his face, and he had answered kind of politely, ``Now, look here, lady: I know you got to entertain these kids and all. But this is a public park and it's a city ordinance that the statues cannot be crawled on.''

Arlene was so ashamed that she hung her head when she said, ``Yes, sir.''

The policeman walked on, but he looked back once.

That had happened on the day when two other unusual things had occurred. Arlene had taught them a new way to have fun in their little private area; and they had told their mother about the tumbles. In matters of exact information, that kept her one step behind developments; and so they were consistently true to their principles.

``Never mind,'' Arlene had said, after the policeman had left, having pursued the usual unco-operative course of grownups. ``Never mind. I know something that is much more fun that we can do on our little lawn.''