The summer-house was to be HOME, and there the party were assembled--
nine in number, for not only Papa, but Uncle John, was going to play;
and Henry, though forlorn and unnoticed, had wandered about with the
rest all day, trying to do as usual, to forget the heavy load that
pressed on him, and to believe that he was not going to be punished
for mere unluckiness in borrowing, and for not answering impertinent
questions. The world was very unlike itself to him; and he saw the
enjoyment without being able to enter into it, just as a sick person
sees the sunshine without feeling the warmth; but instead of
penitence, he merely tried to shake off his compunction.
So there he stood in the ring, as Susan was finding out who was to be
the first to hide, by pointing to each, at each word of the formula,
"Eggs, butter, cheese, bread,
Sticks, stocks, stones, dead."
"Dead" came to Uncle John, as perhaps Susan had contrived; and
shrugging up his shoulders, he went off to hide, and his whoop was
presently heard. He was not VERY good game; maybe he did not wish to
be very long sought, for he was no further than in the tall French
beans, generally considered as a stupid place to hide in.
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