"There's mamma!" exclaimed the child, clapping his hands; and before
nurse could restrain him, he had bounded from the room, and his
little feet were heard pattering down the stairs. Slowly he came
back, after a little while, and with a look of disappointment on his
sweet young face, entered the nursery, saying, as he did so:

"It was only a man with brooms to sell."

"Your mamma won't be home for a long time yet, Eddy," said his
nurse, "so it is of no use for you to expect her. Go and build block
houses again."

"I'm tired of block houses," replied the little boy, "and now that
mamma has promised me a picture-book like cousin Edie's I can't
think of anything else."

"Oh, well," said nurse, a little impatiently, "she'll be home in
good time. Try and not think of the book. It won't do any good--it
won't bring her home a minute sooner."

"I can't help thinking of it," persisted the child, in whom the
imaginative faculty was unusually, strong for one of his age.

In a little while, however, something occurred to interest him, and
a full hour elapsed before he again recurred to his mother and the
expected picture book. As best she could, his nurse diverted his
mind, and kept him, in a measure, occupied with what was around him.
At length it was full time for Mrs. Herbert to return. Eddy had
ceased to find interest in anything appertaining to the nursery. He