Annie had a beau. She also had a small brother of the proverbially
troublesome age of five. One day at the dinner table they were teasing
Annie about Mr. Lovejoy--that was the beau's name--and Annie declared
that she didn't like him one bit, and said moreover that Mr. Lovejoy
"had a soft spot in his head." That called off the dogs, for a time at
least, but her brother Bobbie took note.
The next evening Mr. Lovejoy called to see Annie. They were both in the
parlor. He was sitting on the sofa, and she occupied a chair on the
other side of the room. Bobbie strolled into the room, climbed up on the
sofa and began a very diligent examination of Mr. Lovejoy's head. He
felt all over it, and looked puzzled. Mr. Lovejoy was puzzled likewise,
and at length said, "Why, Bobbie, what are you examining my head for?
Are you studying phrenology?" "No," said the boy, "Sister Annie says you
have a soft spot on your head somewhere, and I was just trying to find
it!"
They made it up somehow, and Mr. Lovejoy began to call again, evidently
with better results. For, one rainy day the father of the household was
looking everywhere in the hall for his umbrella. "Where's my umbrella,
Annie?" asked he. "I believe somebody has carried it off." And Bobbie
said, "Annie's beau stole it." And Annie said, "Bobbie! how dare you say
such a thing of Mr. Lovejoy?" And Bobbie said, "I know he did, because
when he was giving you good-night at the hat-rack last night, I heard
him say as plain as could be, 'I'm going to steal just one!'"