'Oh, little Billikins!' she said. 'Father's little Billikins!'
'Where's Father?' asked Billikins.
Mother began to cry bitterly. 'Father has gone away for a long, long time,' she said, as soon as she could speak.
'Has he gone to the war?' asked Billikins, in an awed voice.
'Yes, dear, to the war. It is very wrong of me to be so silly. I'm a soldier's wife, and I ought not to grudge my husband to his country. And remember, Billikins, you are a soldier's son—always remember that. You must never run away from a danger; you must face it. A soldier's son must be a brave man.'
'I shall not forget, Mother,' said Billikins.
Mother set him gently on the ground, dried her eyes, and began to bustle about.
'And a soldier's wife must be brave, too,' she said to herself.
For many, many weeks after that Billikins and his mother were very anxious, though Billikins tried his best to be cheerful, and not let Mother see that he felt sad. News came to them—sometimes, good news, and then Mother brightened.
At last, one happy day, they heard that the war was over.