tom us to evil, so can it soften pain. Freddy
was beginning to assume proprietary airs toward the cot, which
appeared in every town, and even to express views as to the relative
values of cots in Springfield, Akron, or Joliet--when one night he
woke to hear Florette sobbing.

Freddy lay awake listening. He had sobbed, too, when he was first
banished to the cot. Was Florette missing him as he had missed her?
Ah, if she at last had seen that papas were not half so nice as
Freddy's, he would not be hard on her. His heart swelled with
forgiveness and love. He stole on tiptoe to Florette's bedside.

"Flo," he whispered.

The sobbing ceased. Florette held her breath and pretended to be
asleep. Freddy wriggled his little thin body under the covers and
threw his arms around Florette. With a gulp, she turned and threw her
arms around him. They clasped each other tight and clung without
speaking. They lay on the edge of the bed, holding their breath in
order not to wake the papa who snored loudly. Freddy's cheeks and hair
were wet, a cold tear trickled down his neck, his body ached from the
hard edge of the bed; but he was happy, as only a child or a lover can
be, and Freddy was both.

In the morning the papa was cross. He did not seem to care for his own
breakfast, but concentrated his attention on Freddy's. Freddy had
always been accustomed to a nice breakfast of tea and toast and jam,
but Howard insisted on ordering oatmeal for him.

"Naw, Freddy can't stand oatmeal," Florette objected.

"It's good for him," said Howard, staring severely at his son across
the white-topped restaurant table.

"I don' see no use forcin' a person to eat what they can't stomach,"
said Florette.

"Yeah, tha's the way you've always spoiled that kid. Look a' them pale
cheeks! Li'l ole pale face!" Howard taunted, stretching a teasing hand
toward Freddy. "Mamma's boy! Reg'lar sissy, he is!"

He gave Freddy a poke in the ribs. Freddy shrank back, made himself as
small as possible in his chair, looked mutely at Florette.

"Aw, cut it out, Howard," she begged. "Quit raggin' the kid, can't
you?"

"Mamma's blessed sugar lump!" jeered Howard, with an ugly gleam in his
eye. "Ought to wear a bib with pink ribbons, so he ought. Gimme a
nursin' bottle for the baby, waiter!"

The impertinence of this person amazed Freddy. He could only look at
his tormentor speechlessly. Freddy and Florette had been such great
chums that she had never used the mate