"He has the measles," said Mother. "I expect you'll come down with them next, and break out in a day or so. But wait until you do."
And if Sister thought anything about her red paint she said nothing. I don't believe she ever imagined her brother would play such a trick.
At first, after his sister had gone to school, and he had been given his breakfast in bed, the boy thought it was going to be lots of fun to pretend to have the measles and stay home from school. But after a while this began to grow tiresome.
It was a beautiful, warm sunshiny day outside, and staying in a dark room wasn't as much fun as that boy had thought. He could hear the bees humming outside his open window, and the birds were singing.
His mother opened the door and spoke to him.
"I'm just going across the street a few minutes," she said. "You'll be all right, won't you?"
"Yes'm," answered the boy. "My measles don't hurt hardly any."
And of course they couldn't, being only painted measles, you know.
When Mother went away, softly closing the door after her, the sound of the buzzing bees and the singing birds came to the boy through his window. He knew it must be lovely outside, and yet he had to stay in bed.
"But I can get up and run out for a little while," he said to himself. "Mother will never know!"