“I think it's real mean to rain like this,” said Tommy Henning, early in the morning of the day on which Roy, his big brother, had received the alarming telegram. Tommy let his picture book drop to the floor, and swung his fat little legs backward and forward. Soon tiring of this, he flattened his nose against the window pane of the drawing-room where the two children had been trying to amuse themselves.
“What's mean, Tommy?”asked his sister, Ethel.
“Oh, things,” and with this broad generalization he continued to exercise his legs. “What's the use if it's going to rain all the time?”
“But it isn't going to rain all day. It will clear up before long, see if it doesn't.”
Tommy was a real boy and, like his big brother, hated above all things to be obliged to remain indoors. It had been raining for twenty-four hours, and he longed to get outside in the free, fresh air, being particularly anxious just now to take Ethel for a ride in the boat on the big pond below the orchard.
Tommy was sturdy, but his sister was a frail girl,
of shy and nervous disposition. Her chief characteristic was her passionate love for her brother Tom, who did not show much appreciation of her affection, because he did not realize its depth. He loved his sister, but in a somewhat boisterous manner. Not unfrequently he showed his affection in a way that was rather painful than otherwise to the delicate child. This was because he did not think. He did not intend to be rough, yet he secretly thought that it was a hardship that she was not a boy, for then he could have “lots more fun.” They got along well together, however, and loved each other very dearly.
True to Ethel's prediction, it soon ceased raining, the clouds breaking and rolling away in great masses. Tom's vivacity returned with the sunshine.
“Ma! ma! may we go down to the pond now, and get some of those lilies?”begged Tommy, as he rushed into his mother's room.