It seems the mother was determined her six year old daughter should learn table manners and especially that she should eat what was put before her without question or complaint. On a morning at breakfast the lady sat behind the coffee urn reading her mail. Little Mildred was perched upon a high-chair at the other end of the table. In front of the latter the maid put down a cup holding a soft-boiled egg.
“Please, mama,” said Mildred. “I don’t want an egg this morning. I had an egg yesterday morning.”
“Never mind what you had yesterday morning,” said the mother without looking up from her reading. “Eggs are good for you. Now you open that egg and eat every bite of it.”
Mildred sniffled but obeyed. Presently her voice was again uplifted in protest:
“Mama, I don’t like this egg. I don’t think it’s a very nice egg.”
“It is a nice egg,” contradicted the mother, still immersed in her correspondence. “Go right ahead.”
Another pause ensued, punctuated only by muffled sobs and gulps from Mildred. Then:
“Mama, I’ve eaten nearly all of it. Can’t I stop now?”
“Mildred, I don’t want to have to speak to you again. I’ve told you what you had to do.”
“But, Mama——” and now Mildred’s voice rose to a wail——“do I have to eat the bill and the legs, too?”
