The Loom of Destiny
could n't he do that sort of thing, too? Why were all the good things of life denied him? Why could n't he play in that beautiful black mud, as well as the other boy?
He looked back regretfully at the multimillionaire, who was still letting the soft slime ooze deliciously between his toes. But the strong arm of that irate nurse hauled him relentlessly on. He tugged to get away, but in vain, and as he was dragged homeward up the Avenue his lusty bawling echoed up and down that decorous street, and filled the inmost heart of his English nurse with a secret desire to spank him.
It was two whole weeks before the boy in velvet appeared on the scene again. When he walked slowly down the Avenue his face was quite as white as the lace on his velvet collar, and there was a big swathe of flannel about his throat. The nurse held his hand, for his legs were still very wobbly.
The boy from the Alley was there with his shingle, choo-choo-chooing gaily up and down the puddle.
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