CHAPTER VI.
FRANKIE'S ROCKING HORSE.
When Frankie was between three and four years old, there were a good many words he could not pronounce distinctly. He could not say kitchen, but called it chichen; and he called sugar chucher. He could not say sing, but said ting. His papa was afraid he never would be able to pronounce them; and he took a great deal of pains to have him try to say them over and over again. He used to take Frankie on his knee, and make him sound s-s-, and then say s-sing. But Frankie always said s-ting.
One day his mamma was passing through the back hall, and she saw her little boy kneeling in a chair by the table where Jane was making bread. He was talking very earnestly, and she stopped a moment to hear what he was saying.
He was giving Jane a lesson. "Now say knife," he began. So Jane said "knife."
"No, that not wight; you must say s- knife."
Jane laughed: "knife is right," she said.
"No, no!" he repeated; "papa say s- knife; so you must say it wight."
He thought it was as well to put s- on any other word as on sing.