M OTHER was making a cake for Sunday's dinner, Father was drawing pictures, and Bobby was lonely.
"I wish I had somebody to play with me," he said; and he had scarcely spoken when an automobile stopped right in front of the house.
There were two men in the car, and one little girl who looked as if she might be just about as old as Bobby. Something was wrong with the automobile and the men got out to work on it, but the little girl sat still and looked at Bobby.
Bobby looked at her, too, but neither of them said a word. Bobby could not keep from smiling, though. He tried his best to keep a straight face, but the corners of his mouth would turn up, and his eyes would twinkle. When he smiled the little girl smiled; and the minute Bobby saw her smiling he had a beautiful thought. It was such a delightful thought that he ran into the house to tell it to his mother. When she heard it she left her cake-making to tell it to Father. And no sooner had she told him, than Father put down his pencil and went out to tell it to the men whose automobile was in the road.
Bobby went with him, and when Father had spoken to the men and offered to help them, he said:
"This is my little boy Bobby, and he would like very much to have the little girl play with him, till you are ready to go."
This is what Bobby had thought of!
One of the men was the little girl's papa, and he liked Bobby's plan very much. So did the little girl.
Her name was Florence Grey, and she was so friendly and merry that Bobby was sorry when the automobile was mended, and she had to go away.
She was so friendly and merry that Bobby was sorry when she had to go away.
When she had gone, Father made a rhyme about her for Bobby:
Little Florence Friendly‑way
Came to our house to‑day,
Had a word for every one,
Joined in every bit of fun.
Oh, how pleasant 'tis to play
With little Florence Friendly‑way!
Bobby thought it was very pleasant to have a playmate.
"My wish came true," he said; "and I'm going to make another."
And he wished that Florence might come again.