My Dad, Leslie Grove, often told us stories about when he was a little boy. His most famous story was about a playmate named Harry. This is my version of the story. Dad wrote down his version of it, and I heard another version from his brother. All of them were good.
As you read, enjoy the story. But know that it is best when told aloud!
Harry: Go Home!
My Dad was the youngest of nine kids. When he was four his dad died leaving a mortgage on the farm. So they were very poor, but they still had the fun that children find for free.
During the summer they slept in the barn. Dad and two brothers, who were nearest him in age, slept inside a large sheet bag up in the hay. One day their friend Harry had spent all day playing with them. When it got dark, he didn't want to go home because his place was across the quarter section through some woods. This was out in the country and there were no city or street lights to provide even dim light. So Harry stayed and joined the other boys in the sheet bag.
Dad's oldest brother, George, was back home visiting at that time and also was sleeping in the loft. Everything was fine until Harry started poking the other boys to tickle them and set them giggling and making noise. George called out, "Harry, be quiet.", and for a while Harry complied. But he was a great mischief maker and soon the boys were laughing and making noise again. Again George spoke, "Harry, BE QUIET!", and Harry did quiet down. However, like many boys of his age, he didn't know when he should stop and again the mischief and giggling returned.
This time George solemnly intoned, "HARRY, GO HOME!". At this, Harry started crying because he was afraid of the dark woods! But it was no use and even though Dad and his brothers accompanied Harry to the edge of the woods he continued crying as he ran into the night.
The next morning Harry told about all the wild and fearsome animals he saw in the woods in the dark!