Night after night he had comforted himself with the picture that it brought before him.
He could see a little white house in the middle of a big lawn.

There were vines on the porches, and it must have been early in the evening, for the fireflies were beginning to twinkle over the lawn.

And the grass had just been cut, for the air was sweet with the smell of it.

A woman, standing on the steps under the vines, was calling "Jules, Jules, it is time to come in, little son!" But Jules, in his white dress and shoulder-knots of blue ribbon, was toddling across the lawn after a firefly.
Then she began to call him another way.

Jules had a vague idea that it was a part of some game that they sometimes played together.