<h2><SPAN name="AT_THE_LITTLE_BOYS_HOME" id="AT_THE_LITTLE_BOYS_HOME">AT THE LITTLE BOY’S HOME</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="upper">It</span> was a very hot day,
and the little boy was
lying on his stomach
under the big linden
tree, reading the “Scottish
Chiefs.”</p>
<p>“Little Boy,” said his
mother, “will you please go out in the garden
and bring me a head of lettuce?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I—can’t!” said the little boy.
“I’m—too—<em>hot</em>!”</p>
<p>The little boy’s father happened to be
close by, weeding the geranium bed; and
when he heard this, he lifted the little boy
gently by his waistband, and dipped him
in the great tub of water that stood ready
for watering the plants.</p>
<p>“There, my son!” said the father.
“Now you are cool enough to go and get
the lettuce; but remember next time that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</SPAN></span>
it will be easier to go at once when you
are told, as then you will not have to change
your clothes.”</p>
<p>The little boy went drip, drip, dripping
out into the garden and brought the lettuce;
then he went drip, drip, dripping into the
house and changed his clothes; but he
said never a word, for he knew there was
nothing to say.</p>
<p>That is the way they do things where
the little boy lives. Would you like to
live there? Perhaps not; yet he is a
happy little boy, and he is learning the
truth of the old saying,—</p>
<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0a">“Come when you’re called, do as you’re bid,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Shut the door after you, and you’ll never be chid.”<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<hr class="l1" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</SPAN></span></p>
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