Don't mention the wagon; I want to take him by surprise." Nancy went bounding up the stairs, and I placed the wagon in the centre of the room where it would meet the child's eyes on the moment of his entrance, and then sat down to await his coming, and enjoy his surprise and delight.
After the lapse of about a minute, I heard Nancy coming down slowly.
"Neddy's asleep," said she, looking in at the door.
"Asleep!" I felt greatly disappointed.
"Yes, ma'am.

He was on the floor asleep.

I took him up, and laid him in your bed." "Then he's over his troubles," said I, attempting to find a relief for my feelings in this utterance.

But no such relief came.
Taking the wagon in my hand, I went up to the chamber where he lay, and bent over him.

The signs of grief were still upon his innocent face, and every now and then a faint sigh or sob gave evidence that even sleep had not yet hushed entirely, the storm which had swept over him.
"Neddy!" I spoke to him in a voice of tenderness, hoping that my words might reach his ear, "Neddy, dear, I've bought you a wagon." But his senses were locked.