CHAPTER XXIV.

MAY BE SO.

“NEXT time you go out, you’ll buy me a wagon, won’t you, mother?” said my little boy to me, one day.

I didn’t want to say “no,” and destroy his happy feelings; and I was not prepared to say “yes;” and so I gave the evasive reply so often used under such circumstances, “May be so,” and which was meant rather as a negative than an affirmative.  The child was satisfied; for he gave my words the meaning he wished them to have.  In a little while after, I had forgotten all about it.  Not so my boy.  To him the “May be so” was “yes,” and he set his heart, confidently, on receiving the wagon the next time I should go out.  This happened on the afternoon of that very day.  It was towards evening when I returned.  The moment I rung the bell at my own door, I heard his pattering feet and gleeful voice in the entry.

“Where’s my wagon?” said he, as I entered, a shade of disappointment falling suddenly upon his excited, happy face.

“What wagon, dear?” I asked.

“My wagon.  The wagon you promised to buy me.”

“I didn’t promise to buy a wagon, my son.”

“Oh, yes you did, mother!  You promised me this morning.”

Tears were already in his eye, and his face wore a look of distressing disappointment.

“I promised to buy you a wagon?  I am sure I remember nothing about it,” I replied confidently.  “What in the world put that into your head?”

“Didn’t I ask you?” said the child, the tears now overflowing his cheeks.

“Yes, I believe you did ask me something about a wagon; but I didn’t promise to buy you one.”

“Oh, yes you did, mother.  You said may be so.”

“But ‘may be so’ doesn’t mean yes.”

At this the little fellow uttered a distressing cry.  His heart was almost broken by disappointment.  He had interpreted my words according to his own wishes, and not according to their real meaning.

Unprepared for an occurrence of this kind, I was not in the mood to sympathise with my child fully.  To be met thus, at the moment of my return home, disturbed me.

“I didn’t promise to buy you a wagon; and you must stop crying about it,” said I, seeing that he had given way to his feelings, and was crying in a loud voice.

But he cried on.  I went up stairs to lay off my things, and he followed, still crying.

“You must hush, now,” said I, more positively.  “I cannot permit this.  I never promised to buy you a wagon.”

“You said may be so,” sobbed the child.

“May be so, and yes, are two different things.  If I had said that I would buy you a wagon, then there would have been some reason in your disappointment; but I said no such thing.”

He had paused to listen; but, as I ceased speaking, his crying was renewed.

“You must stop this now.  There is no use in it, and I will not have it,” said I, resolutely.