Harry, who's a stand-in for every uncertain, obstinate three-year-old (Throw a Kiss... Take a Nap...), is left with Mrs. Brewster with the injunction to be a good boy. ""Well. Even though he had known that she was going, Harry hadn't understood that his mother would really leave him."" How Mrs. Brewster consoles him--with a cookie, three stories, patient tact, and a loud laugh--makes a satisfying solution to a common dilemma. Harry standing bereft between departing mother and awaiting baby-sitter, crawling into the latter's capacious lap with his toys, hugging his mother when she returns--all drawn and described with a spare precision that echoes, a tender restraint that touches.