And it is a little singular that the next hardest thing to getting
a boy out of bed is getting him into it. There is rarely a mother who is a
success at rousing a boy. All mothers know this; so do their boys. And yet
the mother _seems_ to go at it in the right way. She opens the stair
door and insinuatingly observes, "Johnny.", There is no response.
"Johnn_y_." Still no response. Then there is a short, sharp,
"_John_," followed a moment later by a long and emphatic "John Henry."
A grunt from the upper regions signifies that an impression has been made;
and the mother is encouraged to add, "You'd better be getting down here to
your breakfast, young man, before I come up there, an' give you something
you'll feel." This so startles the young man that he immediately goes to
sleep again; and the operation has to be repeated several times. A father
knows nothing about this trouble. He merely opens his mouth as a soda-water
bottle ejects its cork, and the "JOHN HENRY" that cleaves the air of that
stairway goes into that boy like electricity, and pierces the deepest
recesses of his nature, and he pops out of that bed, and into his clothes,
and down the stairs, with a promptness that is commendable.
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