"Eddy," she said firmly, yet with as much tenderness as she could
assume, "Eddy, you know you promised me to be such a good boy."

"And I have been good," eagerly answered the little fellow, lifting
his swimming eyes to her face, "you may ask nurse if I havn't been
good all the time."

"I'm sure you have," said Mrs. Herbert, touched by the manner of her
child; "and yet, Eddy, I have not brought your book."

The tears, which had been ready to start, now gushed over his face,
and a low cry pained the mother's ears.

"Eddy," said she, seriously, "let me tell you about it. You must
listen to reason."

Reason! poor, disappointed little one! He had no ear for the
comprehension of reasons.

"Now, Eddy! I can't have this!" Mrs. Herbert spoke firmly, for
already the child was weeping bitterly. "Crying will do no good. I
promised you the book, and you shall have it. I had no opportunity
to get it this morning. Come now! you must stop at once, or I----"

Mrs. Herbert did not utter the threat which came to her lips; for
her mind shrunk from the thought of punishing her child, especially
as his fault was a consequence of her own actions. But, as he
continued to cry on, and in a louder voice, she not only began to
feel excessively annoyed, but deemed it her duty to compel a
cessation of what could do no possible good, but rather harm.