"Dear Beppo, I love him," said Willie, skipping about the room; "I hope I shall always be an honest dog—an honest boy I mean," he continued, laughing. "How splendid to have every body trust you, and leave all kinds of treasure for you to take care of! Mamma, would you like me to take care of grandma's portrait? I know that is a great treasure: I would put it under my bed and stare at it all day."
"But what would you do at night?" said his mother, laughing.
"Oh!" said Willie, "to be sure! why, we must have a dog like Beppo, you know. I am the griffin, see how fierce I look!" and Willie looked so fierce, that his mother pretended to be terribly frightened, and ran away, Willie tearing after her, his blue eyes dancing with fun, and they were both having a fine scamper, when Willie's father stood laughing at the door.
And now tea was ready; Willie's tea was bread and milk. He never had rich cake, or sweetmeats, or strong tea, or hot bread, which are all very fine while you are eating them, but which create quite a riot in the stomach of a delicate child, and often lay the foundation of life-long indigestion. He had a mother who was really kind, and did her utmost to save him from bodily pain, and took unwearied pains in storing his mind with noble thoughts, a love of truth, and a contempt for every thing mean. Her almost hourly prayer was, that her only son and child might grow up to be a Christian—"to love God with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself"—and, so far, the dear little fellow had richly rewarded her care.
The next day Willie studied his lessons, and knew them perfectly, and played on the lawn before the house. Although more than once his eyes sparkled with impatience to hear the rest of the delightful story, he did not annoy his mother, as some children do, with such expressions as these: "Come, now—right away. I want to hear the rest of that story. Oh! dear me! how long you are! I—wish—you—would—COME." Oh, no; Willie knew that his dear mother had many things to do, and he did not say one word about Beppo till about the same time the next afternoon, as his mother took her seat by the large and pleasant window which looked out upon the lawn; then he went up to her, and put his arms round her neck, and kissed her as before, and said: "Mamma, Mr. Fowler, the Phrenologist, says you can tell all about a boy, by the bumps on his head. I think I must have a prodigious bump of liking to have stories read or told to me. I have thought all day about Beppo and the hateful old griffin; but I have not said any thing or teased you—have I, mamma? I have been as quiet as a drum with a hole in it—haven't I, mamma?"
"It hardly needs a tongue to understand you, my dear boy, your eyes talk so fast; and as to the bumps, there is one very large one of loving me, I am certain; for you are a good, thoughtful child, but rather a small one for wanting to scamper and frolic in the open air. Come, I will make the same bargain as yesterday; half an hour's exercise, and then the story."
"Certainly," said Willie, with a pleasant laugh; "if you asked me to stand on my head, I would do it, mamma—or try, any way. I wish your ladyship good afternoon for half an hour," and Willie put his feet together, turning out his toes, and made such a very low and polite bow to his mother, that he nearly tumbled on his nose, and then ran out on the lawn.
As his mother watched him, she smiled, and sighed, and said to herself, "If my little Willie were only stronger, every desire of my heart would be fulfilled;" and then she repeated to herself those pleasant words of Willis:—
"There's something in a noble boy—
A brave, free-hearted, careless one,
With his unchecked, unbidden joy—
His dread of books, and love of fun—
And in his clear and ready smile,
Unshaded by a thought of guile,
And unrepressed by sadness—
Which brings me to my childhood back,
As if I trod its very track,
And felt its very gladness."
When the half hour was over she called Willie, and he came bounding in—his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling; and it did not take long, let me tell you, to arrange his bench and sit close beside his mother, ready for the fine treat she had promised him.