about ye stop him with a frown. Afther supper he's
allowed to study some more, an' whin he's finished just as th' night
begins to look good he's fired off to bed an' th' light is taken away
fr'm him an' he sees ghosts an' hobgoberlins in th' dark an' th' next
he knows he's hauled out iv bed an' made to wash his face again.

"An' so it goes. If he don't do anny iv these things or if he doesn't
do thim th' way ye think is th' right way some wan hits him or wants
to. Talk about happy childhood. How wud ye like to have twinty or
thirty people issuin' foolish ordhers to ye, makin' ye do things ye
didn't want to do, an' niver undherstandin' at all why it was so? Tis
like livin' on this earth an' bein' ruled by the inhabitants iv Mars.
He has his wurruld, ye can bet on that, an' 'tis a mighty important
wurruld. Who knows why a kid wud rather ate potatoes cooked nice an'
black on a fire made of sthraw an' old boots thin th' delicious oatmeal
so carefully an' so often prepared f'r him be his kind parents? Who
knows why he thinks a dark hole undher a sidewalk is a robbers' cave?
Who knows why he likes to collect in wan pocket a ball iv twine, glass
marbles, chewin' gum, a dead sparrow an' half a lemon? Who knows what
his seasons are? They are not mine, an' they're not ye'ers, but he
goes as reg'lar fr'm top time to marble time an' fr'm marble time to
kite time as we go fr'm summer to autumn an' autumn to winter. To-day
he's thryin' to annihilate another boy's stick top with his; to-morrow
he's thrying to sail a kite out iv a tillygraft wire. Who knows why he
does it?

"Faith we know nawthin' about him an' he knows nawthin' about us. I
can raymimber whin I was a little boy but I can't raymimber how I was a
little boy. I call back 's though it was yisterdah th' things I did,
but why I did thim I don't know. Faith, if I cud look for'ard to th'
things I've done I cud no more aisily explain why I was goin' to do
thim. Maybe we're both wrong in the way we look at each other--us an'
th' childher. We think we've grown up an' they don't guess that we're
childher. If they knew us betther they'd not be so surprised at our
actions an' wudden't foorce us to hit thim. Whin ye issued some
foolish ordher to ye'er little boy he'd say: 'Pah-pah is fractious
to-day. Don't ye think he ought to have some castor ile?'"

"It's a wise child that knows his own father," said Mr. Hennessy.

"It's a happy child that doesn't," said Mr.