July 28, 1888.
HE NEVER TOOK IT.
His loving mother had had her mind made up for two or
three days that the boy needed some castor oil, but she knew that she
must approach him gently. She placed the bottle where he could not see
it, and when he turned up his nose she said,
“It’s just like honey, my darling.”
He seemed to doubt her word, and she continued,
“If you’ll take some I’ll let you go to the circus.”
“How much?” he cautiously inquired.
“Oh, only a spoonful; just a spoonful,” she replied, as she
uncorked the bottle.
“And you’ll give me some sugar beside?” he asked.
“Of course I will; a big lump.”
He waited until she began pouring from the bottle, and
then asked, “And you’ll give me a sixpence, too?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And you’ll buy me a kite?” he went on, seeing his advantage.
“I think so.”
“No kite, no ile,” he said, as he stepped back.
“Well, I’ll buy you a kite,” she replied, filling up
“And a bicycle?”
“I’ll think of it.”
“You can’t think no castor ile down me!” he exclaimed,
looking about for his hat.
“Well, I will, or I’ll tease father to, and I know he will.
Come now, swallow it down.”
“And you’ll buy me a goat?”
“And a dog?”
“I can’t promise that.”
“All right; no dog, no ile!”
“Well, I’ll ask your father.”
“And you’ll buy me a pony?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that! Now be a good boy and swallow it
“Oh, yes, I’ll swallow that stuff, I will!”
he said, as he clapped on his hat.“You may humbug some other boy
with a circus ticket and a lump of sugar, but it’ll take a pony
to trot that castor ile down my throat.”