[The Portion of Labor by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman]@TWC D-Link bookThe Portion of Labor CHAPTER XI 14/25
"He ain't doin' any harm, mother; it's only his boyish antics.
For Heaven's sake, let him enjoy himself while he can, it won't be long before the grind-mill in there will get hold of him, and then he'll be sober enough to suit anybody," and Andrew pointed at Lloyd's as he spoke. "Boys can be boys," said Mrs.Zelotes, severely, "and they can have a good time, but they can behave themselves." None of them looking after that flying and whooping figure ahead had the slightest idea of the true situation.
They did not know that the boy was confused by the fires, none the less ardent that they were so innocent, of a first love for Ellen; that, ever since he had seen her little, fair face on her aunt's shoulder the day when she was found, it had been even closer to his heart than his sled and his jackstones and his ball, and his hope of pudding for dinner.
They did not know that he had toiled at the wood-pile of a Saturday, and run errands after school, to earn money to buy Christmas presents for his mother and Ellen; that he had at that very minute in his purse in the bottom of his pocket the sum of eighty-nine cents, mostly in coppers, since his wage was generally payable in that coin, and his pocket sagged arduously therefrom.
They did not know that he was even then bound upon an errand to the grocery store for a bag of flour to be brought home on his sled, and would thereby swell his exchequer by another cent.
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