LITTLE BOY’S BREAKFAST

Press, Volume LXXIII, Issue 21986, 9 January 1937, Page 2 (Supplement)

LITTLE BOY’S BREAKFAST

Once there was a little boy who didn’t want;. 1 ; tof-eat - his breakfast, .When his mother called him in .the morning, he would say, ■ “Oh, I don’t want to get up: T I don’t want to eat my • breakfast." And he always took a long, time to dress because he did not like to sit down at his little white table to eat. Then when - his breakfast was ready, the Little Boy began to cry and to whine. ; “I don’t want my orange Juice!” he whimpered- ’“This oatmeal is too salty/ I don’t like hard toast. 1 don’t like, soft egg. My milk is too cold!” ../ * ■ - And no matter what nice'. things he had, he cried and whined . and. diddled and . dawdled,-, until- his mother Just didn’t,know what.to do with him. . ~• . > ■.. Well, one morning.. Little. Boy. finished dressing before- his' mother even had breakfast ready, so he sneaked downstairs to the front door., There he- heard a little scratching,- It was his Little Dog, So Little BbyTet- him .in, ’ ... ' ; r “Bow-wow, ‘ Little Boy!” said’ Little Dos , cheerfully.‘‘Good. morning. : Why do you Took so crossthis fine day?” a • : • • '• “Oh.” said Little Boy, “because! 1 don’t want'to eat my breakfast,” “Bow-wow! That’s . all' ’ right.” said Little Dog. “Come with me. You may have some oL my, breakfast.”: -A So Little Boy and Little Dog wentdown the steps .into the yard and there under the lilac bush,' Little Dog dug up a big bone! “This is my breakfast.” he - said, wagging his tail. “You can have some of this.” . . • . , “Oh, but. I , can’t eat a bone for my breakfast!” said Little Boy. . Then he walked down the path to the woodshed and Little Dog tagged along, too.

Beside the woodshed door, he saw Grey Kitty-cat, sitting on a log in the sun. ; “Mieow, mieow, Little Boy,” said •Grey Kitty-cat., VGood morning! Why Ado you Took; so cross this, bright day?” ‘ ; “Oh,” said Little-Boy, "because! Tj don’t want to eat my breakfast!”

• "Mfeow,'' i- mieovv! - That’s all right.’‘-'said, Grey Kitty-cat.■< “You may have "some, of my breakfast. . I Was; just going to get it.” 1 So Grey. Kitty-cat and Little -Boy went . into . the - wdodshed.. Grey Kitty-cat grunted round; and hunted round until she had'caught a nice, soft; little.'mouse, v Then she ■ licked her whiskers -and purred. “This is my ; breakfast.- Have some?” i "Oh. but I . can’t: eat. a mouse for my . breakfast,” said Little Boy. ' Their he walked towards the barn and. Little., Dog tagged .along’, too., ! ■ lii' the stall stood Brown Horse, eating his- breakfast happily.i “Neigh, neigh,- Little ’ 80y.”., said Brown Korse.^... “GoodL.m'oriUng.' Why do you look so cross this Tine day?” ■ - V • /. ••

“Oh,” said Little Boy, “because! I don’t: jvant to eat my breakfast. “Neigh, ..neigh! That’s all right,” said Brovin Horse. '‘You may take a taste', of mine. I have plenty of good oats, and hay to . •spare.- See how full my manger is!” “Oh,” said* Little Boy, looking into 'the manger, “but I can’t eat pats and hay for my breakfast!” ■ • And he walked, down to the pond, rwhile Little ,Dog tagged along, too. ■ A shiny' White Duck swam about in the water, splashing in his bath. “Quack, quack, Little Boy,” said .'White Duck. “Good morning! ;.Why do you look so cross this 'bright day?” ■■ “Oh,” said Little Boy, “because!, •I don’t want to eat my 'breakfast.”, V “Quack, quack! That’s all right,” ■said White Duck, “I’ll give you /the best breakfast you ever tasted.” -And diving under the water he came up with a wiggly live tadpole in his bill. “Qh, but I can’t eat tadpole for breakfast!” said Little-Boy and he began to cry. Just then Little Boy’s mother came to the front door , and called, “Come, Little Boy. Breakfast!” ' And Little Boy ran and ran along the path, up the steps and into the house and sat right down td his little white table. Little .Dog -tagged along, too, Sure enough, there stood his nice breakfast, waiting for .him. Down went Little Boy’s orange Juice! Um-m it was nice! In went his 'oatmeal, spoonful after spoonful. How good it tasted! And the buttered toast was just right and the egg neither too hard nor too soft, and the milk just flowed, lickety-split, down, the little red lane! “My!” said Little Boy. “Oh my, what a good breakfast I have!”