"I'm afraid the old lady was right, Sarah, though I own I never thought of it in that light before—telling fibs to children to keep them from misbehaving, I mean. I've done it occasionally myself, but I don't think I ever shall again. As she said, how can we expect them to speak the truth if we are not always careful to do it ourselves?"
"Annis," Mildred called to her sister, "please bring Percy in now; it is growing too late for him to be out."
"He doesn't want to come," was the answer; "can't he stay out a little longer?"
"No; the sun is near setting, and the air is growing quite cold," Mildred answered, running down into the garden and taking her little boy by the hand. "Come, son, we must go in now, for mamma does not want her dear baby to get sick."
"No; won't get sick," he asserted in the most positive manner. "P'ease, mamma, let Percy tay wee 'ittle bit longer."
"No, darling; but if it is a good day to-morrow you shall have a nice long play and a drive in the carriage with papa and mamma, beside."
She was leading him gently on toward the house while she spoke. The child did not resist, but he set up a loud wail.
"My little boy must not be naughty," Mildred said, in a gently reproving tone.
Still the crying continued, and indeed increased in violence as she led him over the threshold into the hall. There she stopped, and stooping down to take off his out-door garments, "Percy," she said firmly, "you must stop this noise at once. Mamma is very sorry her little boy is so naughty. Now be good, and we will go into the parlor to see dear grandma and the rest, and you may get up on a chair by the window and watch for grandpa, and papa, and Uncle Wallace to come to supper. They'll be coming pretty soon, and then we will have our supper, and after that Percy shall go to his nice little bed."