She liked this new neighbor and had played with her the rare afternoons that she had been allowed on the street; but she knew her mother scarcely approved of Charity. But then her mother did not approve of any of the girls and boys on Hammond Street and one must play with some one.
“Your mother’s out,” said Charity. “I know, for I saw her go. Where you been all day, Hazel?”
“Here at home,” Hazel answered. “I’ve got a sore throat, and I’m not allowed to go out, and there’s nothing to do in this poky place.”
“Let’s play,” said Charity, “you shut your eyes and I’ll hide.”
“Pooh,” Hazel replied contemptuously, “you know, Charity, there isn’t a single place here big enough for a cat to hide in.”
“Well, let’s, let’s,” Charity looked about for inspiration, and her glance fell on the doll in the adjoining room, “let’s play house.”
“No, you would just beat the baby. Let’s play a new game, something brand new that we never played before.”
Charity began jumping about on one foot, and on into the little parlor, but she had no suggestion to offer. Hazel followed her and as her eye fell on the family Bible, her face lighted with excitement.
“I know,” she declared, “let’s play a Bible game. Let’s act a Bible story the way we act history at school.”
Charity stood on her two feet. “George Washington?” she asked.