, and, making a queer little
bow, said, "How do you do, sir? I hope you are very well." Then he
twisted one leg tighter than ever round the other, and gave a vigorous
twirl to his paper windmill.

"Hey! I like that," said Charley. "Let _me_ try to do it."

"Oh yes," said the other, "but this is the best way--to hold it straight
out, and run fast."

So Charley took the windmill, and both boys went scampering and
galloping round the room, the windmill flying round famously, until the
boys were quite out of breath.

"What's your name?" asked Charley, as they were resting together in a
large old rocking-chair.

"George Washington Johnson. What's _your_ name?"' asked the black boy,
in return, rocking the chair as hard as he could.

"My name is Charley Lee. I like you. Will you be my friend?"

"Oh yes; will you be mine?"

"Yes, and we'll play together every single day."

Just then Juliet went away with a great basket of clothes, to hang them
up in a room where they were quickly dried by steam; and Charley, taking
George's hand, said, "Come up stairs with me, and take a ride in the
elevator."

What a blissful invitation for George! They tumbled up stairs in their
delightful hurry, ran through the door into the broad hall, to the
elevator, and the moment it appeared, Charley cried out,

"Oh, Mike, open the door; George wants to ride up and down with me;
_he's my friend_."

"Oh, he's your friend, is he?" said Mike, puckering up his eyes at
George Washington; "and a very pretty color he is, too. Well, step in,
Snowball."

"His name isn't Snowball; it's George Washington," said Charley.

The elevator man laughed, and the two boys got closer together in a
corner, pretending that it was a balloon, and they were sailing up and
down in the air; and there they sat, in a state of perfect happiness.

The two boys never quarrelled. George had a sweet disposition, and was
ready to do anything Charley proposed. They loved each other dearly, and
many were the slices of bread and butter, spread thickly over with
molasses, to which the two friends were treated by the good-natured
washer-woman. They never sat down to eat them; oh no! they capered, and
danced, and burst out laughing when they tumbled over a broomstick or a
bench, and seemed to grow rosier and fatter every day. That is, Charley
grew rosier, and George's smooth black skin grew shinier, which was the
same thing--for him.

The little black boy was often permitte