“Both father and daughter were very strong and skilful, and by exerting themselves to the utmost they succeeded in saving nine of the poor wrecked creatures who were crouching there on the rocks in momentary expectation of being washed off by the raging waves and drowned.  They bore them safely to Longstone.”

“And that made Grace Darling famous,” remarked Lulu.

“Yes,” said her father.  “Many people, many of the great and wealthy, went to see the brave girl who had thus risked her own life to save others, and they heaped upon her money and valuable presents; so that she was no longer poor.  But she did not live long to enjoy the good things bestowed upon her.  She died of consumption about four years after her famous adventure.”

“What a pity, papa! wasn’t it?”

“For those who loved her, yes; but not for her, if she was ready for heaven.  Do you think it was?”

“No, sir, ’cause it is the happy land where Jesus is, and nobody is ever sick or sorry or in pain.  But I don’t want to go there yet; I’d rather stay a good while longer here with you and mamma.”

“I want you to, darling, if such be God’s will,” he returned low and tenderly, bending down to press a fatherly kiss on her round, rosy cheek.  “Your father would hardly know how to do without his little Elsie.”

She looked up into his face with shining eyes.  “We love each other, don’t we, papa?” she said with satisfaction.  “Mamma too, and brothers and sisters, and grandma, and—­oh, all the folks.”

“Where now?” asked Grandma Elsie as they left the Transportation Building.

“I want to show you the German castle,” answered Harold.  “It is here on the Midway Plaisance, and is a reproduction of a castle of the middle centuries.  It is viewed by most people who have read of moat-surrounded castles with great curiosity and interest.”

“There is a German village connected with it, is there not?” she asked.

“There is, mamma, and I think you will all enjoy looking at both it and the castle.”

“Oh, I am sure we shall if it is a faithful reproduction of the old castles of feudal times that we have read of!” exclaimed Rosie.

“It is said to be,” returned Harold, “and is considered very curious and interesting.”

“Is there a moat about it, Uncle Harold?” asked Grace.

“Yes; and a drawbridge and portcullis.”

“Oh, what is that?” asked little Elsie.

“A framework of timbers crossing each other, pointed on the lower edge with iron and hung by chains in grooves in the chief gateway of the castle, so that on the sudden appearance of an enemy it could be let down to keep him out more quickly than the drawbridge could be raised to prevent his crossing the moat, or the gates shut.”

“And what is a moat?”

“A ditch or canal.  But you shall see one presently, and a portcullis also.”

“Oh, I’m so glad we came here to the White City!” cried Elsie, skipping along by her father’s side; “it’s so lovely and there are so many curious things to see.”