...of brave children

Tomorrow... Tomorrow, the eldest boy, slipping off the slate roof where he was setting up a water-tank, would break his collarbone and lie there, in polite silence, half-fainting, at the foot of the wall, waiting for someone to come and lift him up. Tomorrow the youngest would be whacked right in the middle of his forehead by a six-metre-long ladder; without a word of complaint, he would return home modestly bearing a purple bump as big as an egg between his eyes...

[Claudine's House, Colette, S-G.]