"This is just the kind of game we ought not to play if we want to make
Dicky think of peace and not of war," declared Ethel Blue at last when
she had become breathless from the excitement of their countless
adventures.
"That's so. It's funny how you forget. It's just as Delia says--we
don't realize how fighting and soldiers and thinking about military
things is put into our minds even in games when we're little."
"I'm really sorry we've done this," confessed. Ethel Brown as they
fell behind their charge. "Dicky's 'pretending' works over time
anyway, and he may dream about Indians, or get scared to go to bed, and
it will be our fault."
"It's rather late to think about it--but let's try not to do it again.
Isn't there something we can call his attention to now to take his mind
off Indians?"
Dicky was marching ahead of them drawing an imaginary bow and bringing
down a large bag of imaginary birds, while from the difficulty with
which he occasionally dragged an imaginary something behind him it
seemed that he had at least slain an imaginary deer.
Naturally, with his hunting blood up, the Ethels found him not
responsive to appeals to "see what a pretty flower this is" or to
examine the hole of a chipmunk.
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