"No," she said at last, "Arthur, you don't know it at all."
"I can't, Mamma, I just can't," he said, plaintively. "I'm sick."
"Your head is not sick. I can't allow you to grow up in utter ignorance because you're an invalid, Arthur."
That seemed very severe to me, yet she spoke in a sweet, kind way.
"Why do you make me so unhappy? You know how I feel when you won't learn."
"I cannot, Mamma; I cannot." And he began to cry.
But Mrs. Milligan did not let herself be won over by his tears, although she appeared touched and even more unhappy.
"I would have liked to have let you play this morning with Remi and the dogs," she said, "but you cannot play until you know your lessons perfectly." With that she gave the book to Arthur and walked away, leaving him alone.
From where I stood I could hear him crying. How could his mother, who appeared to love him so much, be so severe with the poor little fellow. A moment later she returned.
"Shall we try again?" she asked gently.
She sat down beside him and, taking the book, she began to read the fable called "The Wolf and the Sheep." She read it through three times, then gave the book back to Arthur and told him to learn it alone. She went inside the boat.
