The next morning, Frankie had forgotten all about this; and when papa said he must not have so much sugar on his cakes, his lips began to pout, and they were all afraid he was going to be very naughty.
Mamma leaned over her plate, and said, softly, "Is Satan here again?"
"Yes, mamma," said Frankie; "may I whip him out?"
She nodded yes; and he then jumped down from the table, and began to blow with all his might. Then he caught up a newspaper, and whisked it all about, saying, "Go long, old feller; go long out of this house."
"Whew! whew!" said papa; "what is all this?"
Mamma smiled, as if she understood it well; and presently the little fellow climbed up in his chair, looking very bright and happy, but quite out of breath with his exercise.
"Satan's gone, papa," he said. "Now I'm your dear little Frankie."
"Yes, indeed, you are," said his father, laughing heartily. "I am glad we have found a way to get rid of Satan so easily."
"What does it mean?" asked Willie.
"I will tell you presently, my dear," said papa.