Young though he was he could not sleep long at night. His sense of loneliness penetrated his dreams. Sometimes he would chuckle and gurgle in an ecstacy, as he had done when riding on his father's back, romping through the stately rooms. He would throw his arm about the neck of the doorkeeper or lifeguard who had lain down beside him to console the boy and try to get him to sleep. When the man spoke to comfort him, Tad would find out his terrible mistake, that his father was not with him.
Then he would wail again in the bitterness of his disappointment:
"Papa-day, where's my Papa-day?"
"Your papa's gone 'way off"—said his companion, his voice breaking with emotion—"gone to heaven."
Tad opened his eyes wide with wonder. "Is Papa-day happy in heaven?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure he's happy there, Taddie dear; now go to sleep."
"Papa-day's happy. I'm glad—so glad!"—sighed the little boy—"for Papa-day never was happy here."
Then he fell into his first sweet sleep since that terrible night.
GIVE THE BOYS A CHANCE"