Jimmy stood on one foot and thought: “I’ll go tell mamma I didn’t mean to. No; I’ll tell her Judy did it. Judy did, I think.”
The fly on the towel gazed at Jimmy; Jimmy gazed at the fly.
“Mamma’s pretty dish,” said Lucy, breaking the silence. Jimmy was not crying, so she dropped the corner of her apron.
“Judy broke it,” declared Jimmy again.
“Yes,” assented the little sister; “Judy broked it.”
“Well—go tell mamma so. I hear her in the parlor.”
Lucy turned to go.
“No, don’t; I don’t want you to. Needn’t tell mamma anything.”
“No; needn’t tell her anyfing,” said Lucy, whirling about, and looking at her brother.
She and the little fly both looked at him. Lucy did not know any more than the fly what was going on in Jimmy’s mind. Neither of them dreamed it was a battle between right and wrong.