Willy cried now and then, and
she took him in her lap, and said, "Dear, you will be happy as soon as you
say that letter, and mamma will be happy too, and we can't either of us be
happy until you do."
"Oh, mamma! why don't you _make_ me say it?"
(This he said several times before the affair was over.)
"Because, dear, you must make yourself say it. I am helping you make
yourself say it, for I shall not let you go out of this room, nor go out
myself, till you do say it; but that is all I shall do to help you. I am
listening, listening all the time, and if you say it, in ever so little a
whisper, I shall hear you. That is all mamma can do for you."
Bed-time came. Willy went to bed, unkissed and sad. The next morning, when
Willy's mother opened her eyes, she saw Willy sitting up in his crib, and
looking at her steadfastly. As soon as he saw that she was awake, he
exclaimed, "Mamma, I can't say it; and you know I can't say it. You're a
naughty mamma, and you don't love me." Her heart sank within her; but she
patiently went again and again over yesterday's ground.
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