The result was, of course, in accordance with Master Lewie’s wishes, and Agnes was directed to take him up to bed. “He will very soon be asleep,” her mother added, “and then you can come down.”
This Master Lewie heard, and it put quite a new idea into his head, it never having occurred to him before that the person who sang him to sleep left him alone, after her task was accomplished. That was a thing he was not going to submit to, and he was so determined to watch Agnes, lest she should slip away from him, that all sleep seemed to have deserted his eyes, which were wider open, and more bright and wide awake, than ever.
Agnes laid down beside him, and, patting him gently on the cheek, she sang in a sleepy sort of way, hoping the tone of her voice would have a somniferous effect.
“Sing louder!” shouted Master Lewie.
Agnes obeyed, and sang many nursery songs suggested by Master Lewie, hoping, at the end of each one, that there would be some signs of drowsiness manifested on the part of the little tyrant; but the moment it was finished, brightly and quickly he would speak up:
“Sing that over again!—sing another!—sing ‘Old Woman!’—sing ‘Jack Horner,’” &c., &c.
And Agnes’ heart died within her as question upon question would follow each other in quick succession, suggested by the lively imagination of Master Lewie, as to the name and parentage of “the little boy who lived by himself;” and the childless condition of the man whose “old wife wasn’t at home;” and where the dogs actually did take the “wheel-barrow, wife and all;” he feeling perfectly satisfied of the accurate information of Agnes on all these important topics.
Several times the little bright eyes slowly closed, and Agnes thought he was fairly conquered. Slowly drawing her arm from under his head, she began cautiously to rise; but before she had stolen a foot from the bed, he would start up and stare at her in amazement, exclaiming, “Where going, sister?” and then he seemed to learn by experience, and to determine that he wouldn’t be “caught napping” again that evening.
In the meantime, the fun was going on below, and several beautiful pictures had been exhibited and admired before Agnes was missed from the darkened parlor. But now came the cry, “Agnes! Come, Agnes! Where’s Agnes? She is to be in this picture.” To which Mrs. Elwyn replied, that “Agnes was putting Lewie to sleep.”
“And hasn’t she been here at all, Aunt Harriet?”