George Hart was five years old when he went to stay some months at his uncle’s house. He was very glad to be with his cousins, for he liked good rough games of play, and he did not cry at a knock or a fall.
At home he had no one to play with him but his sister Mary, and she was quite a little thing, and if he had played roughly with her it would have hurt her. George was a good-natured boy, and he did not wish to hurt any one.
When he got to his uncle’s, he thought he should never be tired of all the nice toys and useful things that his cousins were so kind as to shew to him. In the house there was a long room called the workshop, in one part of which was a large bench with saws, hammers, nails, and all kinds of tools. (more…)
I am going to tell you about a little boy who had scarlet fever, and about how he amused himself. He was quarantined in his own room for six weeks, yet he did not have a dull time, after all. He saw no one during those weeks but his father and mother and the doctor.
When Arthur was first taken sick and the doctor said that it was scarlet fever, every unnecessary article of furniture was removed from his room. His bed seemed very necessary, so that remained; also his bureau, washstand, a table, and two chairs. The carpet was taken away, as well as the book-case and all the books. The closet was emptied of all the clothes, and the drawers full of toys were stowed away in the attic.
When so many of his cherished belongings were gone Arthur thought it was a very queer-looking room, and the first time he sat up in bed and looked at the bare floor he said it seemed as if he were in prison. (more…)