The History of Gutta-Percha Willie | Page 9

She never cried except she was in some
trouble, and even then you could seldom have seen a tear on her face.
She did all that was required of her, grew longer and broader and
heavier, and was very fond of a lighted candle. The only fault she had
was that she wouldn't give Willie quite so many smiles as he wanted.
As to the view she took of affairs, she seemed for a long time to be on
the whole very well satisfied with life and its gifts. But when at last its
troubles began to overtake her, she did not approve of them at all. The
first thing she objected to was being weaned, which she evidently
considered a very cruel and unnecessary experience. But her father said
it must be, and her mother, believing him to know best, carried out his
decree. Little Agnes endured it tolerably well in the daytime, but in the
night protested lustily-was indeed so outrageously indignant, that one

evening the following conversation took place at the teatable, where
Willie sat and heard it.
"Really, my dear," said Mrs Macmichael, "I cannot have your rest
disturbed in this way another night. You must go to Willie's room, and
let me manage the little squalling thing myself."
"Why shouldn't I take my share of the trouble?" objected her husband.
"Because you may be called up any moment, and have no more sleep
till next night; and it is not fair that what sleep your work does let you
have should be so unnecessarily broken. It's not as if I couldn't manage
without you."
"But Willie's bed is not big enough for both of us," he objected.
"Then Willie can come and sleep with me."
"But Willie wants his sleep as much as I do mine."
"There's no fear of him: he would sleep though all the babies in Priory
Leas were crying in the room."
"Would I really?" thought Willie, feeling rather ashamed of himself.
"But who will get up and warm the milkand-water for you?" pursued
his father.
"Oh! I can manage that quite well."
"Couldn't I do that, mamma?" said Willie, very humbly, for he thought
of what his mother had said about his sleeping powers.
"No, my pet," she answered; and he said no more.
"It seems to me," said his father, "a very clumsy necessity. I have been
thinking over it. To keep a fire in all night only to warm such a tiny
drop of water as she wants, I must say, seems like using a steamengine
to sweep up the crumbs. If you would just get a stone bottle, fill it with

boiling water, wrap a piece of flannel about it, and lay it anywhere in
the bed, it would be quite hot enough even in the morning to make the
milk as warm as she ought to have it."
"If you will go to Willie's room, and let Willie come and sleep with me,
I will try it," she said.
Mr Macmichael consented; and straightway Willie was filled with
silent delight at the thought of sleeping with his mother and the baby.
Nor because of that only; for he resolved within himself that he would
try to get a share in the business of the night: why should his mother
have too little sleep rather than himself? They might at least divide the
too little between them! So he went to bed early, full of the thought of
waking up as soon as Agnes should begin to cry, and finding out what
he could do. Already he had begun to be useful in the daytime, and had
twice put her to sleep when both his mother and Tibby had failed. And
although he quite understood that in all probability he would not have
succeeded if they hadn't tried first, yet it had been some relief to them,
and they had confessed it.
But when he woke, there lay his mother and his sister both sound
asleep; the sun was shining through the blind; he heard Tibby about the
house; and, in short, it was time to get up.
At breakfast, his father said to him-
"Well, Willie, how did Agnes behave herself last night?"
"So well!" answered Willie; "she never cried once."
"O Willie!" said his mother, laughing, "she screamed for a whole hour,
and was so hungry after it that she emptied her bottle without stopping
once. You were sound asleep all the time, and never stirred."
Willie was so much ashamed of himself, although he wasn't in the least
to blame, that he could hardly keep from crying. He did not say another
word, except when he was spoken to, all through breakfast, and his
father and mother were puzzled to think what could be the matter