The old man's eyes twinkled as he spoke. From his high-seeming post upon his recliner, the elderly man held his children's attention. Finishing his stories, his young audience gaped in admiration of the fantastic tales their grandfather told them.
"Gizmo's story became that of legend. His work as a bard, a singer of song and teller of tales, was told by other bards everywhere. He became a hero for them. That is the end of Book One."
"Now, you three should scurry off to bed," their mother called from the next room.
"Aw, grandpa! One more story!"
"Nope, that's it!"
"But it's only Book One! There HAVE to be more adventures, aren't there?"
"Oh, well of course, there are more adventures. For now, though, you children need your sleep!" He smiled at the children's feeble attempts to avoid their mother's command. His grandson and oldest granddaughter lazily waddled into the next room, while his youngest stayed behind, smiling.
"Grandpa?"
"Yes, my dear?" She crawled into his lap.
"You're Gizmo, aren't you?"
"How did you know?"
"I just guessed." Gizmo stood, carrying his youngest granddaughter into her bedroom.
"You're so smart."
