"Sure, Father," he said, "You're the Captain. Keep the soldiers.
I'll play with the other toys," and he skipped out of the room.
Mayne's look followed him with love. Then he turned to the old
Pastor and a strange expression came into his face, half whimsical
and half grim.
"Doctor," he said, "will you do me a favor? Poke up that fire till
it blazes. That's right. Now lay this box in the hottest part of
the flames. That's right. It will soon be gone."
The elder man did what was asked, with an air of slight bewilderment,
as one humors the fancies of an invalid. He wondered whether Mayne's
fever had quite left him. He watched the fire bulging the lid and
catching round the edges of the box. Then he heard Mayne's voice
behind him, speaking very quietly.
"If ever I find my little boy _playing with tin soldiers,_ I
shall spank him well. No, that wouldn't be quite fair, would it?
But I shall tell him why he must not do it, and _I shall make
him understand that it's an impossible thing."_
Then the old Pastor comprehended. There was no touch of fever.
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