HOW DAN-NY SAID HE WAS SOR-RY.
Dan-ny was a hand-some lit-
tle boy, but not al-ways a
good lit-tle boy. Some-times
he was so naught-y that you
could see sparks of fire in
his soft black eyes, and he
would dou-ble his chub-by lit-
tle hands up in-to fists, and
stamp his feet, and look ex-
actly as though he were go-
ing to strike some-bod-y.
One day when mam-ma
was sick with head-ache he
had one of these bad times
with his tem-per.
"I don't wish to walk with
El-len," he cried, "an' I won't!
I want a play-walk with you,
mam-ma! El-len don't talk
with me, an' she won't let
me drive her at all! I want
a play-walk with my mam-ma,
I say! Do you hear, mam-ma!
Mam-ma heard. She felt
as though the naught-y lit-tle
boots had come down with
a stamp right on her head.
She knew ver-y well it was
nicer for a lit-tle boy to walk
with a mam-ma who would
a-muse him and take part in
his lit-tle plays, than with a
nurse, but she could not go,
and when Dan-ny stamped
and roared, he had to be sent
out of the room quick-ly, and
with-out e-ven a kiss.
It was a much-a-shamed
lit-tle boy that went stub-bing
a-long in the dust right in
the mid-dle of the road a
half-hour aft-er. His lit-tle
heart was strug-gling to find
some way to say how sor-ry
he was. There were no flow-
ers to pick for a nose-gay, and
it was too late for e-ven a
stray black-ber-ry.
But just be-fore din-ner
mam-ma woke, and there was
a great cloud of col-or, red
and gold, right be-fore her,
and shin-ing o-ver it, a pair
of silk-en-fringed black eyes,
so soft and lov-ing and sor-ry
that mam-ma gath-ered her
lit-tle boy, and the great arm-
ful of au-tumn leaves right
in-to her arms, and in one
lit-tle min-ute all the naugh-
ti-ness was loved a-way.
