Half a dozen boys

by Anna Chapin Ray

"Fuzzy is a bad dog! Come here to grandma," said Mrs. Carter in slow, measured tones, as she glared at the dog, who looked in her face for a moment, and then turned his head away with a prodigious yawn. "Children, you must not laugh. He never will mind then. Well, Bess, what do you think? Shall we let Fred come?"

"Yes, I should like it so much, unless it would be unpleasant for you and father. You know I threatened once before to adopt him. Does he want to come?"

"They haven't, Mr. Allen says, told him anything about their plans, until they could settle on something. Will you write to Mr. Allen, then?"

"Yes, I will write this evening. But come, Rob, we've time for just one more game."

The note was written, and the next evening Mr. Allen called to arrange for Fred's coming four days later. The boy was to be left in the care of Bess, on whose judgment Mr. Allen felt he could rely. After an hour spent in discussing various minor details, Mr. Allen said, as he rose to go,—

"We have said nothing to Fred as yet, Miss Carter, about this; so suppose you tell him, that is, if you can spend time to-morrow to come down for a few moments. And, in case I do not have time to call again, I will say now how much Mrs. Allen and I feel indebted to you for taking our son into your home."

And with a stately bow he was gone. "Did you ever see such an old iceberg!" remarked Bess disrespectfully, as she returned to the parlor fire to thaw herself out. "Between him and Mrs. Allen I should think Fred would be thankful for any change. Next Tuesday! Well, there's a good deal to be done between now and then. Shall you worry, mother, with a new son on your hands?"

"Not at all," said her mother heartily. "He is not my property, anyway; though if I see you going very wrong, I shall put in my word."

"Oh, do!" said Bess. "I feel half terrified at the thought of my responsibility. Still, I think that, at least, I shall do as well as Mrs. Allen."

The next afternoon Fred lay stretched on the sofa in an unusually dismal mood. The whole house was in a bustle; his mother and Mary had been up-stairs all day, rummaging through closets and drawers, with not a moment to spare for him; the fire had gone out in the grate, and there was no one near to build him another; and, worst of all, Miss Bess had not been near him for four days, while Rob had not been down for two weeks. Everybody had forgotten him, and he wished he could forget himself. Oh, for something to do! With nothing but eating and sleeping to break the monotony, life was so dull. He envied the man whom he heard shovelling coal into a neighbor's cellar. He could fancy just how he stooped and gave his shovel a powerful push, raised it with one swing of his strong arms, and tossed it down into the opening before him; only stopping occasionally to wipe his forehead on his grimy sleeve. Fred felt to-day that he would give up all his comfortable home, just to change places with that man for one little hour, and be able to see and work.