"Aw, Hal, do let
me!"
"I can't have a kid like you forever tagging after me. Why can't you play
with boys of your own age? You can't come today, that's all about it."
"O Hal! you--you might let me! I won't be a bother!" Bobby's eyes were
beginning to brim over with tears. His face wore a look of despair.
"O, cry-baby; of course you must howl! You can stay at home and play with
the cats."
And the big brother, whom Bobby had served so willingly all day, shouldered
his lacrosse stick and went off whistling.
Harold met his Aunt Kate in the hall.
"Where's your little footman?" she asked gaily. "Isn't he going?"
"Who? Bob? O Aunt Kate, he's too small to go everyvhere with me!"
"Ah!" Aunt Kate looked surprised. "I thought he was quite big enough to be
with you when there was work to be done, but I see, a footman is wanted to
run errands and do such things."
Harold was not very well acquainted with his aunt, and he was never quite
sure whether she was in fun or not. The idea of her saying Bob was his
footman! He felt quite indignant.
He had just reached the street when he remembered that he had left his ball
where he had been working.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318