“Come,” said George King, a boy of five years old, to his sister Rose,
“come and play on the grass-plat with me. I will lend you my new ball.”
“Oh, yes,” said Rose, as she put down her doll, “that I will.”
In a short time they were tired of play; and Rose said to George, “Let
us go and see aunt Jane, we both know the way quite well.”
“It is such a long walk,” said George, “and I think there will not be
time before it grows dark.”
“Oh, yes there will;” said Rose, “and I dare say aunt Jane will send us
home in the chaise.” So she took George’s hand, and led him into the
lane, for though she was not so old as he was, she often made him do as
she pleased.
Now the way was long, and the sun was low in the sky, but George and
Rose thought no more of that. They went on over two or three fields,
till they came to a high gate.
“Now, then,” said George, “we must climb this, for I find it will not
open;” so he was soon on the other side. But Rose was so short she could
not even get to the top rail.
“Oh, what are we to do?” cried she.
“Why, if you cannot get over, Rose,” said George, “we must go back, for
there is no way but this to reach aunt Jane’s house.”
“Oh dear, oh dear!” said Rose, “why we are so near to it, I can see the
roof through the trees.”
“I cannot help it,” said George; “we must not stay here, for it will
soon be dark.”
“I am so tired!” said poor Rose, with a sigh.
“Do not think of that now,” said George, as he got off the top of the
gate on which he had sat to rest, “for we have a long way to go back,
and must make haste;” so, hand-in-hand, they set off.
In a short time they met a man that knew them well: “Ah, go home, go
home,” said he, as he shook his stick at them; “they are all in a great
fright about you.”
Poor George and Rose ran as fast as they could, for they now thought
they had done wrong to leave home.
As soon as they got to the door, Rose ran up to her grandmamma, and
said, as tears ran down her cheeks, “It was all my fault, _that_ it was;
for George did not wish to go, but I led him out.”
“No,” said George, “it was my fault too, for I knew it was wrong, and
Rose did not.”
“Well,” said their kind grandmamma, as she kissed them and dried their
eyes, “you will not do so any more, I dare say, now that you feel that
you are too young to go out alone. But it is high time you were in bed,
so run up stairs to Ann, like a good boy and girl.”