Radio Boys Cronies
CHAPTER I THE CRONIES "Come along, Bill; we'll have to get there, or we won't hear the first of it. Mr. Gray said it would begin promptly at three." "I'm doing my best, Gus. This crutch----" "I know. Climb aboard, old scout, and we'll go along faster." The first speaker, a lad of fifteen, large for his age, fair-haired, though as brown as a berry and athletic in all his easy, deliberate yet energetic movements, turned to the one he had called Bill, a boy of about his own age, or a little older, but altogether opposite in appearance, for he was undersized, dark-haired, black-eyed, and though a life-long cripple with a twisted knee, as quick and nervous in action as the limitations of his physical strength and his ever-present crutch permitted. In another moment, despite the protests of generous consideration for
Beth was too bashful to go to school. It had been tried,
but she suffered so much that it was given up, and she did
her lessons at home with her father. Even when he went away,
and her mother was called to devote her skill and energy to
Soldiers' Aid Societies, Beth went faithfully on by herself
and did the best she could. She was a housewifely little
creature, and helped Hannah keep home neat and comfortable
for the workers, never thinking of any reward but to be
loved. Long, quiet days she spent, not lonely nor idle, for
her little world was peopled with imaginary friends, and she
was by nature a busy bee. There were six dolls to be taken
up and dressed every morning, for Beth was a child still
and loved her pets as well as ever. Not one whole or
handsome one among them, all were outcasts till Beth took
them in, for when her sisters outgrew these idols, they
passed to her because Amy would have nothing old or ugly.
Beth cherished them all the more tenderly for that very
reason, and set up a hospital for infirm dolls. No pins
were ever stuck into their cotton vitals, no harsh words or
blows were ever given them, no neglect ever saddened the
heart of the most repulsive, but all were fed and clothed,
nursed and caressed with an affection which never failed.
One forlorn fragment of dollanity had belonged to Jo and,
having led a tempestuous life, was left a wreck in the rag
bag, from which dreary poorhouse it was rescued by Beth
CHAPTER I THE CRONIES "Come along, Bill; we'll have to get there, or we won't hear the first of it. Mr. Gray said it would begin promptly at three." "I'm doing my best, Gus. This crutch----" "I know. Climb aboard, old scout, and we'll go along faster." The first speaker, a lad of fifteen, large for his age, fair-haired, though as brown as a berry and athletic in all his easy, deliberate yet energetic movements, turned to the one he had called Bill, a boy of about his own age, or a little older, but altogether opposite in appearance, for he was undersized, dark-haired, black-eyed, and though a life-long cripple with a twisted knee, as quick and nervous in action as the limitations of his physical strength and his ever-present crutch permitted. In another moment, despite the protests of generous consideration for