As a return for all this entertainment, Barbara, in course of time, had to pose for her father. ‘Go on – get over there – bend over and pick up an apple,’ he would say; ‘hold your skirt out with the other hand – put your leg further in front, no, the other one – and now twist round towards me and shake your hair over your shoulder – that’s it – now stay still.’ And then, after what seemed an eternity – ‘All right, you can drop the pose – but now get up on that chair and see if you can be another child throwing the apples down from the tree.’