"Why, Johnny?"
"Father said I must pick up all these stones, and it makes my head ache. I don't like to work so hard," he cried, looking in his mother's face.
"Where are the stones?" she asked, walking into the yard.
"There,—all those."
"One, two, three, four, five, six," counted his mother, laughing. "Oh, what a great job! Six little stones. There, run and pick them up quick, and then come into my room. I want to tell you something."
"Will you wait, mother?"
"Yes, if you wont be long."
"Oh, I can do it in a minute!" he said, forgetting all his trouble.
His mother took off his hat and wiped his head, which was quite wet with perspiration. Then she washed his hands and face with cool water, and told him to draw his little chair to her side. "We'll have some talk together," she said.
"Do you remember about that kitty you found?" she asked.