230 Tom Seven Years Old.

a

 

 

morning, and fell asleep again. Suddenly
he awoke with a great start, calling out,
“ Robbers! robbers !”

“ Neither robbers nor sweeps, but mamma, ’
said his mamma’s voice. She was carrying
his breakfast on a little tray.

“Why,” said Tom, rubbing his eyes; “how
is it 'm not up, dressed, and downstairs,
eating my: breakfast ?”

“You never heard papa calling you, I
suppose,” said she, sitting down beside him ;
“or perhaps you were quite worn out, after
fighting with so many robbers, Tom!”

Tom began to remember all about it. His
stick standing in the corner of the room
reminded him.

“Eat your breakfast,” said his mamma.

“I wanted papa to punish Doggie for not
_ barking,” said Tom; “but then, you know, I
thought they were robbers. He mustn’t now.”

“No; certainly not,” said she. “ Doggie
knows the sweeps quite well. -And you must

know them also another time, when you hear
them, Tom.”