“Lie down and take a good nap, mother dear, I feel first-rate, and Frank can see to me if I want anything. Do, now,” he added, with a persuasive nod toward the couch, and a boyish relish in stirring up his lazy brother.
After some urging, Mamma consented to go to her room for forty winks, leaving Jack in the care of Frank, begging him to be as quiet as possible if the dear boy wished to sleep, and to amuse him if he did not.
Being worn out, Mrs. Minot lengthened her forty winks into a three hours' nap, and as the “dear boy” scorned repose, Mr. Frank had his hands full while on guard.
“I'll read to you. Here's Watt, Arkwright, Fulton, and a lot of capital fellows, with pictures that will do your heart good. Have a bit, will you?” asked the new nurse, flapping the leaves invitingly.—for Frank had a passion for such things, and drew steam-engines all over his slate, as Tommy Traddles drew hosts of skeletons when low in his spirits.
“I don't want any of your old boilers and stokers and whirligigs. I'm tired of reading, and want something regularly jolly,” answered Jack, who had been chasing white buffaloes with “The Hunters of the West,” till he was a trifle tired and fractious.
“Play cribbage, euchre, anything you like;” and Frank obligingly disinterred himself from under the folios, feeling that it was hard for a fellow to lie flat a whole week.
“No fun; just two of us. Wish school was over, so the boys would come in; doctor said I might see them now.”
“They'll be along by and by, and I'll hail them. Till then, what shall we do? I'm your man for anything, only put a name to it.”
“Just wish I had a telegraph or a telephone, so I could talk to Jill. Wouldn't it be fun to pipe across and get an answer!”
“I'll make either you say;” and Frank looked as if trifles of that sort were to be had for the asking.