After passing a branchy bush, and another branchy bush, and a tree with a black trunk Jorma came to a sudden stop.

The path was blocked by a little girl smaller than himself. The girl stood hugging a toy crocodile longer than herself.

"I've got a crocodile," the little girl said.

"I'm going home," Jorma said.

"Where's your home?" the little girl wanted to know.

Only now did it occur to Jorma that he did not know where his home was. But he was ashamed to say so.

"Over there," he made a vague gesture.

"I'll come with you," offered the little girl. "Let's play hide-and-seek. Can you play hide-and-seek?"

Jorma was at a loss for a while. He liked the girl, he didn't mind playing with her in the least, but then what about going home? Wasn't his home a bit too far to walk the whole way with that girl?

As he was thinking he heard a voice call,

"Tiia!"

The girl with the crocodile called back,

"Granny, I've found a boy here."

From behind a bush not far from the rose a tall figure of a lady who wore large sunglasses and a widebrimmed hat. She was speaking in a loud voice so that the children might hear, but the voice sounded kind.

"Come here, Tiia, you've got to put on your frock, or you'll get sunburned."

"I can't come," said little Tiia, "the boy is talking to me. We're going to play hide-and-seek."

"Ask the boy to come here too," the lady said.

"Come along," said Tiia, and as Jorma didn't move, took him by the hand and led him towards the bush. The crocodile trailed along behind them.

The lady whom Tiia called granny asked Jorma if he had come to the beach alone. Jorma told her about Mummy, Daddy and Hedi. Granny nodded approvingly, slipped a bright-coloured frock on Tiia and said,

"Now you may play hide-and-seek, but mind you don't go too far, or Jorma's parents will get worried." She stretched herself out on the sand and opened a large picture-book.

By that time Tiia had forgotten all about hide-and-seek. She seized Jorma by the hand, grabbed the crocodile in her other hand and made for the sea, humming a tune to herself. She was eager to show the boy how well her crocodile could swim.

The crocodile was a master swimmer indeed: it could swim on its tummy, on its back, on its right side and on its left side. Only it would not swim standing upright on its tail or head. Each time the children pressed its tail or head under water it bobbed up and lay stubbornly on its tummy. At last the children got fed up with it and Jorma suggested,

"Let's go boating. I've got a rubber boat."

"Okay," Tiia agreed at once.

The crocodile was left behind quite alone bobbing on the waves. Served it right, it had been so stubborn!

On the beach there was sitting a big boy who was whittling something with his knife.

"The big boy is sifting," Jorma commented to Tiia in whispers.

He thought it better not to attract the boy's attention because he didn't know what sort of a boy he was.

"This is Margus," said Tiia.

"You know him?" asked Jorma.

"Yes, I do. He's my brother," Tiia answered and pulled him on faster.

As they were thus walking along the beach Jorma doubted for a moment whether they were moving in the right direction. But Tiia by his side was marching along with so much confidence that his doubts were dispelled.

Suddenly Tiia stopped, touched her frock and said,

"My frock's wet all over. See, how wet it is."

Jorma touched it—the frock was dripping wet up to the armpit. They had gone into that depth when they were trying to teach the crocodile to swim standing upright.

"I don't like it wet all over," Tiia complained.

Fortunately, Jorma knew what one should do with wet things. Together they pulled her frock off, wrang it out, spread it to dry on a big flat stone and continued their journey hand in hand. Tiia just had to hold somebody's hand in hers when she walked. And she had to sing to herself all the time.

It was fun walking by the side of such a wonderful companion. Jorma had long forgotten where they had meant to go. Only when a huge boulder blocked their way did he realize that it was a wrong place.

Jorma let go Tiia's hand and turned to look back: perhaps they had passed his parents without noticing them.

There was not a bush within sight that resembled the one that gave shelter to his parents and Hedi. There grew only bulrushes and tall dark trees there. Somewhere in the distance there showed something gaily colourful—it was Tiia's frock drying on a stone.

"This is not the right place," said Jorma. "Let's go back."

There was no answer. Jorma turned to find Tiia lost too.

What a strange beach it was, everybody got lost here!

His ears caught some voices from the distance. It was as if someone had called his name.

Jorma stopped to listen, but immediately he heard merry shouts. Tiia appeared from behind the boulder, bent slightly forward with her hands cupped. She wriggled as if someone were tickling her and called,

"Hey! Come and look what a funny tickler I've caught!"

Yet Tiia dropped the tickler before Jorma could catch a glimpse of it, because she couldn't stand the tickling.

The tickler fell into the grass. The children tried to find it but without success.

Then they decided to catch another tickler. Tiia led Jorma behind the boulder. The water was so clear here that they could see the bottom. It was covered with turnip-sized stones. The ticklers lived between the stones. They were crooked like peanuts, only a little smaller and thinner. They had very many tiny legs and they kept kicking all the time because they just could not stop motionless.

"Oh-oh!" Tiia shouted. "I can't hold them, they tickle me so!"

Jorma caught a tickler too. It really tickled something terrible. But suddenly Jorma decided to play a hero.

"I can stand the tickling all right!" he boasted. He closed his fingers over the tickler, held his fist for Tiia to see that it was fair play—and froze in that attitude. He was rewarded by the girl's admiring look.

Yet Jorma continued standing with his fingers pressed together, his teeth compressed—for Tiia to admire him a little longer.

"Jorma!"—"Tiia!"—"Jorma!" the calls reached them.

The children stopped to listen.

"Granny's calling me," said Tiia.

"Mummy's calling me," said Jorma.

The children came out from behind the boulder. They saw people playing a strange game on the beach: some ran from one bush to another, others were hopping around the large stones. One was waving Tiia's frock, another the crocodile. From time to time they stopped, exchanged some words and then went on playing.

The children saw that the players were Jorma's parents and Tiia's grandmother.

"Let's join them," Jorma suggested. He had long since forgotten the incident with his Father.

"Come," said Tiia, took Jorma by the hand and started singing her little song:

My hair is fair,

My frock is yellow,

And I'm walking

With a brave little fellow!

"Stop searching! They're here!" a loud cry came.

They heard quick steps approaching and out of the bulrushes ran Jorma's Father. He came to a halt in front of the children and looked at them expectantly, as if Jorma owed an explanation to him.

And Jorma said,

"Father, can you hold a tickler in your hand without laughing? I can!"

Jason Ladock

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