“It’s a story Georgie told us,” said the child, pulling the buttons on the coat of the old gentleman.
“Let’s hear his story, by all means, my dear.”
Poor Eddy looked exceedingly puzzled, for he had very little command of language, and did not know how to put his thoughts into words. At last he said, “Georgie told it to make us good, and busy, and kind, and a comfort to papa and mamma.”
“Ah! that must have been a capital story; I should like to hear you tell me all about it.”
“Eddy,” said his father, “how can you plague Mr. Hardcastle with your nonsense?”
“I beg your pardon, he does not plague me at all. It amuses me to hear what the little fellow has to say. So out with your improving story, Master Eddy!”
Eddy tells his story.
Page [120].
Poor Eddy turned round and looked at his brother; but George seemed disposed to render him no assistance. He glanced at Lily—she would not utter a word. He was left to his own resources.
“Well, once upon a time,” he began, but stopped short. “I can’t tell a story,” said the child; “it is too hard—I can only remember a bit of the fairy’s pretty song.”