"Yes," said Bessie; "I teased the colonel."
"Oh!" said Maggie, "did you slam the door?"
"No, I talked about what he didn't like," said Bessie, with a quivering lip; "I talked about that night, and it teased him. I didn't know he didn't like to hear about it, mamma. I s'pose it's because he suffered so much he don't like to think of it."
Mamma had no need to ask what night she meant; ever since Bessie had heard of the terrible night when the colonel had lain upon the battle-field, faint and almost dying from his dreadful wounds, thinking that he should never see his home and friends again, the story had seemed to be constantly in her mind; and she spoke of it so often that her mother knew quite well what she meant. "What did you say about it, dear?" she asked.
Bessie could not remember all, but she told enough to let her mother see what had displeased the colonel. But Mrs. Bradford did not tell her little girl, for she knew it would distress her very much to know that the brave soldier of whom she was so fond did not like to be reminded, even by a little child, of his debts and duty to the merciful Father who had kept him through so many dangers and who had sent his dear Son to die for him.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] The above train of reasoning was actually carried out by a child of five years.
[X.]
THE SICK BABY.
