o
guarded how we use them. "Think twice before you speak once," is a
trite, but wise saying. We teach it to our children very carefully,
but are too apt to forget that it has not lost its application to
ourselves.

CHAPTER XXIV.

MAY BE SO.

"NEXT time you go out, you'll buy me a wagon, won't you, mother?"
said my little boy to me, one day.

I didn't want to say "no," and destroy his happy feelings; and I was
not prepared to say "yes;" and so I gave the evasive reply so often
used under such circumstances, "May be so," and which was meant
rather as a negative than an affirmative. The child was satisfied;
for he gave my words the meaning he wished them to have. In a little
while after, I had forgotten all about it. Not so my boy. To him the
"May be so" was "yes," and he set his heart, confidently, on
receiving the wagon the next time I should go out. This happened on
the afternoon of that very day. It was towards evening when I
returned. The moment I rung the bell at my own door, I heard his
pattering feet and gleeful voice in the entry.

"Where's my wagon?" said he, as I entered, a shade of disappointment
falling suddenly upon his excited, happy face.

"What wagon, dear?" I asked.

"My wagon. The wagon you promised to buy me."

"I didn't promise to buy a wagon, my son."

"Oh, yes you did, mother! You promised me this morning."

Tears were already in his eye, and his face wore a look of
distressing disappointment.

"I promised to buy you a wagon? I am sure I remember nothing about
it," I replied confidently. "What in the world put that into your
head?"

"Didn't I ask you?" said the child, the tears now overflowing his
cheeks.

"Yes, I believe you did ask me something about a wagon; but I didn't
promise to buy you one."

"Oh, yes you did, mother. You said may be so."

"But 'may be so' doesn't mean yes."

At this the little fellow uttered a distressing cry. His heart was
almost broken by disappointment. He had interpreted my words
according to his own wishes, and not according to their real
meaning.

Unprepared for an occurrence of this kind, I was not in the mood to
sympathise with my child fully. To be met thus, at the moment of my
return home, disturbed me.

"I didn't promise to buy you a wagon; and you must stop crying about
it," said I, seeing that he had given way to his feelings, and was
crying in a loud voice.

But he cried on. I went up stairs to lay off my things, and he
foll