"Now that you have some strength, do you want to dress and then come down
and sit with me in the sitting-room and see me iron?" asked Aunt Stanshy,
after breakfast.

"O, yes, and not go to school?"

"No school to-day, when that cold is on you."

Charlie crawled into his clothes and went down stairs to the sitting-room.
Aunt Stanshy was ironing. She generally did her ironing in the
sitting-room, as the kitchen was very small, and, on a hot day, it was so
hot there that one felt like sizzling at the touch of water.

"Here are some picture-books for you."

"O, thanks, thanks, aunty!"

"One of those picture-books is about Indian wars."

"Did you ever see an Injun?"

"Not the raving, tearing, tomahawk kind."

"I shouldn't want to see that one."

"Several years ago sort of tame ones used to come round and have baskets
to sell. My great-great-grandmother had quite an adventure with the real
kind once."

"O, tell it to me!"