"I don't want to do it now. I said to-morrow."
"Oh, yes, you said to-morrow. And to-morrow you'll tell me the same thing. No, do it now."
My heart was whispering to me that I was committing a great sin, for I was depriving you of happiness, of joy. . .But a wise principle came into my head: it is harmful to let children have their own way. And I answered sternly:
"To-morrow. I said to-morrow, and it's going to be to-morrow."
"Well, all right uncle," said you in a threatening tone. "You'll remember this."
Then you began to dress rapidly. And as soon as you were dressed, and said the prayers with grandma, and swallowed down a cup of milk, you rushed into the sitting room. A moment later we already heard the rumbling of overturned chairs and your loud shouts. . .
All day we could not get you to quiet down. You hardly ate anything at lunch time, sitting restlessly in your chair, swinging your feet, and regarding me all the time with your strangely shining eyes.
"Will you show it to me?" you asked several times.
"Yes, to-morrow."
"Fine! Why doesn't that to-morrow come quickly? Why doesn't it come?"
But your joy, mingled with impatience, made you more and more excited. And in the afternoon, when your mother, grandma, and I sat down to tea, you found another way of giving vent to your emotions.
III.
You devised an excellent game. You would jump up into the air, then strike the ground with your feet, as hard as you could, and accompany this with a shriek that caused our ear-drums to approach the bursting point.
"Stop it, Eugene," said your mother.
Instead of replying, you struck the floor harder than ever.
"Stop it, dear, mamma is asking you," said grandma.
But you are not afraid of your grandma at all. Bing!
"Oh, stop it," said I, trying to appear calm, and to continue the conversation.
"Stop it yourself," you shouted, struck the floor again, and shrieked even louder than before.
