“Mamma!”
“Don’t hurt his feel——” Mrs. Thomas began.
“Something’s got to be done,” her husband said grimly, and his hand fell upon Ludlum’s shoulder. “You march!”
Ludlum muttered vaguely.
“You march!”
“I got to have my bow-an’-arry! I can’t go to bed ’less mamma comes with me! She’s got to come with me!”
Suddenly he made a scene. Having started it, he went in for all he was worth and made it a big one. He shrieked, writhed away from his father’s hand, darted to his mother, and clung to her with spasmodic violence throughout the protracted efforts of the sterner parent to detach him.
When these efforts were finally successful, Ludlum plunged upon the floor, and fastened himself to the leg of a heavy table. Here, for a considerable time, he proved the superiority of an earnest boy’s wind and agility over those of a man: as soon as one part of him was separated from the leg of the table another part of him became attached to it; and all the while he was vehemently eloquent, though unrhetorical.
The pain he thus so powerfully expressed was undeniable; and nowadays few adults are capable of resisting such determined agony. The end of it was, that when Ludlum retired he was accompanied by both parents, his father carrying him, and Mrs. Thomas following close behind with the bow-an’-arry.
They were thoughtful when they returned to the library.