To this little boy his name!
M. D.
BABYLAND
PERCY’S DREAM.
On July third Percy’s mama went up to wake him.
He cried out when she kissed him, “Oh, mama, I was having a splendid dream! I had just put eighteen packs of fire-crackers in a barrel under your window, and set them off, and they were just going to bang!”
“Never mind,” said mama, laughing. “You will get all the bang you want to-morrow.”
About ten o’clock mama missed Percy.
There were “symptoms” of him everywhere; his little straw hat on the hall floor, his top in the dining-room, his cars in the parlor, his dog in the porch, his bicycle down by the front gate. But no Percy.
Finally she went upstairs, and there was Percy stretched out on his little brass bed, his eyes shut tight.
“Why, Percy,” said mama, as she bent over him, and he opened his eyes. “Are you sick?”