Here I could stand it no longer, and lugged him off, whether he liked it or no. He was just as bad in the reading-room. He wouldn’t sit still unless I told him stories, and made a regular nuisance of himself to the other people. Then (I suppose it was his big feed) he began to get crusty, and blubbered when I talked sharply to him, and presently set up a regular good old howl.
“Why don’t you put the child to bed?” said a lady; “he’s no business up at this hour.”
Nice, wasn’t it?
I had to sneak off with him upstairs, howling all the way. He wouldn’t stop till I gave him a mild cuff on the head. That seemed to bring him round enough to demand the “The Three Bears” once more.
Anything to keep him still; so at it I went again.
Then I told him to go to bed; and he told me to undress him, as he couldn’t do the buttons.
I can’t make out how I got him out of his togs. Then he kicked up no end of a shine because I was going to stick him in bed without his bath.
“I’ve got no bath,” said I; “wait till the morning.”
“Tommy wants his bath. Bring it! bring it!!” he shrieked.
Finally I had to mess him about in a basin in cold water, which set him yelling worse than ever. Then I had to put him in my night-gown, for he’d got none of his own.