He half wished Bobby were with him, so he could
send him back for it. And then he felt ashamed when he remembered his
aunt's words. Was she right, after all, and did he make use of his little
brother, and then thrust him aside when he did not need him?
He did not like the idea of facing Aunt Kate again, so he slipped in
through the back gate, and walked quietly around the house. As he
approached the house, he heard a voice, and paused a moment, hidden by a
lilac bush. Poor, lonely Bobby was sitting on the steps, one hand on
Tiger's neck, while the other stroked Topsy. He was pouring out to his two
friends all his troubles.
"He doesn't like me, Tops, not one little bit. He never wants me round,
only to run and get things for him. You don't be bad to Tops just 'cause
she's littler than you, do you, Tiger? But I guess you like Topsy, and Hal
don't like me. He don't like me one little teenty bit." Here a sob choked
him, and through the green branches Harold could see a big tear-drop upon
Topsy's velvet coat.
"I wish I had a brother that liked me." went on the pitiful little voice.
Pages:
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319