It seemed to her that when this hair was cut off the child would have become a different individual--more separate and independent.
'If you don't want to cut it off for your own sake, you might do it for my sake, because I think it's the reason some of the big boys don't want to play with me, and some of them shout after me and say I'm a girl, and sometimes they sneak up behind me and pull it.

Only yesterday I had to have a fight with a boy for doing it: and even Charley Linden laughs at me, and he's my best friend--except you and Dad of course.
'Why don't you cut it off, Mum ?' 'I am going to cut it as I promised you, after your next birthday.' 'Then I shall be jolly glad when it comes.

Won't you?
Why, what's the matter, Mum?
What are you crying for ?' Frankie was so concerned that he began to cry also, wondering if he had done or said something wrong.
He kissed her repeatedly, stroking her face with his hand.

What's the matter, Mother ?' 'I was thinking that when you're over seven and you've had your hair cut short you won't be a baby any more.' 'Why, I'm not a baby now, am I?
Here, look at this!' He strode over to the wall and, dragging out two chairs, he placed them in the middle of the room, back to back, about fifteen inches apart, and before his mother realized what he was doing he had climbed up and stood with one leg on the back of each chair.
'I should like to see a baby who could do this,' he cried, with his face wet with tears.

'You needn't lift me down.