There was a small boy who had been given a little terrier for his very own, on which he bestowed the name of Paddy, and loved mightily.
He was very saddened by the fact that he could not take his pet away with him on his holidays, which he was spending with some relatives in the country.
Whilst he was away Paddy's young life was cut short by an unfortunate adventure with a motor.
The boy's mother feared he would take the news very hardly on his return; she broke it very gently, therefore, and was rather surprised that the little lad did not seem much perturbed.
Later, however, she heard him weeping lustily in his bed. He was inarticulate with grief, but his brother explained that he was crying “about Paddy”.
“But," said the mother, “ I told him about it this morning, and he did not seem to mind!”
The brother explained, “yes, but he thought you said Daddy.”