Little Frankie and his Mother

Do you wish to know who little Frankie was, and where he lived? Come and sit down in your pretty chair by my side, and I will tell you. Frankie was not the real name of this little boy. When he was a tiny baby, not much larger than black Dinah, his father came home one night from his store, and asked, "Have you named the baby yet, mamma?"
"No," she answered, "I have not; but I have been thinking that if you are pleased, I should like to call him Frank."
"Frank, Frank, Frankie," said his father, repeating it over and over again, to hear how it would sound. "Yes, I like the name; and then my friend, Mr. Wallace, is called Frank. Yes, Frank it shall be."
"While he is a baby, we will call him Frankie," said his mamma. So that was the way he obtained so pretty a name.
About a week after this, there came one day a man on horseback riding up to the front door. He jumped briskly down upon the wide stone step, and rang the bell with a loud, quick jerk, which seemed to say, I am in a hurry. Margie, the errand girl, ran to the door, when the man gave her a box wrapped nicely in a piece of yellow paper, and tied with a small red cord. Then he sprang upon the saddle, and galloped away down the avenue into the road.

Dettagli