One afternoon little Robbie Fales came home with a very sober face. Charley Allen, one of the school-boys, had just had a present of a handsome drum. Robbie wanted one, too. He wanted one so much that he could not think of any thing else all the evening. At last Grandma began to wonder if he was sick; so he had to tell her what he was thinking about.
"I wish father could buy one for me; but I know he can't afford it," said Robbie, with a long sigh.
"Perhaps I can fix up one for you," said Grandma.
"Oh, I should be so glad if you could!" said Robbie. "I know you can fix lots of things; but I don't believe you could make a drum."
"Well, I can try," said Grandma; "and I think I can fix something for you that will make a noise, if it should n't be like a real drum."
So the next day, when Robbie was away at school, Grandma Fales went to work to make a drum for him in a way she had thought of. She found a wooden box that was light but strong, and about the right size.
She put some straps of red cloth around it to make it look gay. Then she fastened a long strap to it so that Robbie could hang it on his neck. For the drum-sticks she found some spokes that had been broken out of an old wheel.