"Oh yes! very bright," said Edward, "but only look here, what I have found! a beautiful razor! oh my! how sharp it is! Uncle James shaves with it every morning. I'll tell you a first-rate play, Horace. I will be a barber, and you shall come to me to be shaved. You know I will only make believe; I won't really shave you."
"Oh that will be fine," said Horace, throwing down the tooth-powder, "that will be fine! Put some soap on my face, brother."
"Yes," said Edward, "I will make a great lot of soap-suds, and put it all over your face. Oh! won't it be nice? won't it be a grand play?"
So saying, he got out the shaving-brush, and dipped it into the water that was in the slop-jar, and rubbed it on the soap, till he had made a great lather. He called it soap-suds, and then he put it all over Horace's face with the brush, and made him look like a fright.
Then this naughty boy took the sharp and shining razor, and began to shave the soap off his face. At first he only took the soap off, but the next time he took off a piece of the skin from Horace's face.
The little boy said, "Oh, Edward! you hurt me. I don't want to be shaved any more! It isn't a good play at all!"
"Don't be a coward," said Edward; "it always hurts to be shaved; come, let me do it once more."
Horace was not afraid of a little pain, and he did not like to be called a coward. He believed what his brother told him. So he held up his face, and Edward began again to scrape off the lather; but this time Horace moved just as he put the razor on his face, and it took the skin all off of his cheek.
It began to bleed terribly, and smarted so much, that Horace screamed, and ran out of the room, and down stairs into the kitchen where his Mother was.
She was very much frightened when she saw the little boy with his face covered with blood and lather, and cried,