CHAPTER XXIV.
MAY BE SO.
"NEXT time you go out, you'll buy me a wagon, won't you, mother?" said my little boy to me, one day.
I didn't want to say "no," and destroy his happy feelings; and I was not prepared to say "yes;" and so I gave the evasive reply so often used under such circumstances, "May be so," and which was meant rather as a negative than an affirmative. The child was satisfied; for he gave my words the meaning he wished them to have. In a little while after, I had forgotten all about it. Not so my boy. To him the "May be so" was "yes," and he set his heart, confidently, on receiving the wagon the next time I should go out. This happened on the afternoon of that very day. It was towards evening when I returned. The moment I rung the bell at my own door, I heard his pattering feet and gleeful voice in the entry.
"Where's my wagon?" said he, as I entered, a shade of disappointment falling suddenly upon his excited, happy face.
"What wagon, dear?" I asked.
"My wagon. The wagon you promised to buy me."
"I didn't promise to buy a wagon, my son."
"Oh, yes you did, mother! You promised me this morning."