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It must be very, very wrong, or else Fav-ver Doctor wouldn't be standing there like that. He would talk and take notice. David knew this was so, but, try as he might, he could not think what sin he was guilty of. It was a great puzzle, and, in truth, David was frequently puzzled in the same way.
David had taken hold of Mother's hand, and he held to it while they kept on looking down there, afar off, where the great silent tree was softly whispering to the summer clouds. "Why don't I never have no fav-ver?" Often David asked that question; upon awakening and upon going to bed he was pretty sure to make inquiries that were never satisfactorily answered.
If he waited long enough, maybe Fav-ver Doctor would smile at him as Mother always did. At the present time, though, one could hardly believe that there were ever any smiles in Fav-ver Doctor's face he was looking so hard and so long at nothing at all. Everything in the room was feeling lonesome and guilty and bad; and worst of all was the clock.
That would not do at all. Fav-ver Doctor said it wouldn't, and he was so distressed about it that he offered David the rare privilege of wearing his watch. At any other time the little boy would have been mightily set up over the honor, but at such a time as this no distinction of any sort was for him. He did not deserve it.
As he seized the child in his arms, and as he felt the small arms of David go about his neck, the word that greeted him was "Fav-ver!" The magic that is in the touch of a little boy! There is nothing like it to drive out the weariness from a heart that knows it must not grow too tired. So now, when Dr.
And when, at last, it came time to kiss Mother good-night, he turned appealing eyes upon her, and asked with trembling lips: "Why don't I never have no fav-ver?" They are not easy to take, siestas aren't. They are the word for going to sleep in the daytime when you would rather not. Sometimes you have to take medicine with them, and nearly always you feel that you must have a drink of milk.
After the message had gone, it was easy to see in David's face that he was glad he had not run away very far. Fav-ver Doctor had not blamed him, but Fav-ver Doctor had made him understand how much trouble it makes when little boys run away. "That's what it was all about," said David. "You mean, I suppose " "Fairies don't like it if I run off. That's why they changed things around so.
After he had strutted for a while his Fav-ver said to him: "What fun, David; what fun you must have had in running away!" "Oh," the little boy replied, "I didn't go far. I got scart and hurried back to Mother." The Doctor looked wryly at his guest. He knew David had not gone home after running away. "Did you see Mother after you went back?" he asked. "No, I didn't see her."
"If only I had a few of them, Fav-ver Doctor," said David, "only just a few little warts!" Proud business for David! Sitting on the edge of the seat of the buggy, he was holding the reins very tight. One must always do that if he does not want the horse to kick and run away. Not knowing that the horse was tied to the hitching-post, David was fulfilling his mission with ceremony, and when Dr.
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