This boy loved pictures. Indeed, there were few things that he loved
more. But he had never seen any pictures except a few small ones in
a book. His father and mother were Quakers, and they did not think it
was right to spend money for such things. They thought that pictures
might take one's mind away from things that were better or more useful.
One day Benjamin's mother had to go to a neighbor's on some errand.
So she told Benjamin to stay in the house and take care of his baby
sister till she came back.
He was glad to do this; for he loved the baby.
"Yes, mother," he said, "I will watch her every minute. I won't let
anything hurt her."
The baby was asleep in her cradle, and he must not make a noise and
waken her. For some time he sat very still. He heard the clock ticking.
He heard the birds singing. He began to feel a little lonesome.
A fly lighted on the baby's cheek, and he brushed it away. Then he
thought what a pretty picture might be made of his sister's sweet face
and little hands.
He had no paper, but he knew where there was a smooth board. He had
no pencil, but there was a piece of black charcoal on the hearth.
Pages:
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62