CHAPTER V.
FRANKIE'S NEW LESSONS.
When Frankie was a year old, his mamma thought it quite time for him to learn to go to bed by himself. So she took him up in her chamber, and shut the blinds, to keep out all the flies. Then she gave him his luncheon, and laid him on Willie's trundle-bed. This was low; and she thought, if he tried to get off, it would not hurt him as much as if it were higher. "Now," said she, "my darling must be good, and shut his eyes, and go to sleep; and then mamma will come and put on his pretty cap and shoes, and take him to ride in his little wagon." She kissed him, and went into the dressing room, to see what he would do.
But Frankie did not like this at all, and he began to cry as loud as he could, and call for his mamma to come back. When he found this did no good, he stuck up his stomach, and kicked his feet, and at last he held his breath until his mamma was frightened, and ran to hold him up.
"Frankie is naughty," she said; "mamma can't kiss a naughty boy." Then she laid him down again, and started to go away. But he cried as loud as ever, until mamma was obliged to pat his dear little hands until they looked quite red. She went away, and stood where she could look through the crack of the door. He called "mamma," two or three times, and then, tired with his crying, he fell asleep.
"Dear little Frankie!" she said, coming to the bed and kissing the tears off his rosy cheeks. "It made mamma's heart ache to whip him."
In a few days the little fellow had learned this new lesson; and though he missed his mother's arms folded tenderly about him, and the sweet smiles which mingled with the hushaby in his infant dreams, yet he grew reconciled to it at last, and became a very good baby.
Every day now he learned something new; first to say, "Wee," for Willie; then to hide his tiny head behind a handkerchief, as Margie did when she played peep a-boo with him. Another time he held out his hand for the brush, and tried to smooth Willie's hair; but instead of that he tangled the close curls most terribly, so that the poor boy could hardly keep from crying when mamma combed them out again.
One morning Sally was ill, and obliged to stay in bed. Margie wished to play with Frankie while her master, and mistress, and Willie were at prayers; but mamma said, "No; Frankie may come to prayers too."
Papa took the large Bible, and Willie stood close by his side, his little finger pointing to the verses as the reading went on; and the baby sat on his mother's knee, his eyes very wide open, to see all that was going on. He looked first at mamma, and wondered, I suppose, that she did not smile. Then he turned to papa, who was reading serious words in a solemn tone. He gazed next in Willie's face; but Willie was intent upon the book. At last he caught a glimpse of Margie's laughing eyes, and he spoke right out. The little girl had not heard one word of the reading. She had been watching Frankie, to see how he would behave; and now, before she thought where she was, she laughed aloud. But when she saw that her laughing had made Willie smile and turn from his book, and that her mistress looked very sorry, she was sorry too, and covered her blushing face with her little apron.
Frankie sat very still while they sang a pretty hymn beginning:—
"Majestic sweetness sits enthroned
Upon the Saviour's brow."
But when papa and mamma kneeled down, he tried to kneel too; and seeing that mamma shut her eyes, he closed his, but opened them again in a minute, and tried to get away to run to Willie.
"Frankie is now a year and a half old," said papa, "and must learn to be still at prayers."
"Can't he come to dinner, too, papa?" asked Willie. "I am almost sure he will be good."
"I am willing, if mamma is," said papa.
"We will try him," said mamma.
In the middle of the forenoon a man came to the door bringing a new high chair for Frankie to sit at dinner. Papa had been to the store and bought it for his baby boy. "O, what a kind papa!"
Frankie was very good the first day and the second day he came to dinner; but after that he did not behave as well. He pushed away the plate on which mamma had mashed a nice potato for him, and tried to reach a dish in which Jane had put some squash. His little fingers were covered with squash, and mamma had to ring the bell for Margie to bring the sponge and wash them.
The next day, when papa held down his head to ask God to bless the food, Frankie bent his face down to the table, and muttered over something. I suppose he thought he too was praying.
"Will God care?" asked Willie. "Baby don't know that it is naughty to pray so."
"God never expects children to behave any better than they know how," replied mamma.