word, or two or three words, for a hundred times. You will begin to wonder what it means before you come to the end.' 'But he had his Bible; and you know what a comfort that was to him.' 'Perhaps that was the reason he didn't go mad. I daresay, too, that some qualities in him were strengthened and came to his aid because he was so strangely situated. What qualities 'I don't understand you, Dan.' 'I do say things sometimes you don't understand at first, don't I, Jo ?' Joshua nodded good-humouredly. 'I am often puzzled myself to know what I mean. Leaving Robinson Crusoe alone, and speaking of qualities, Jo, take me for an instance. I am a cripple, and shall never be able to go about. And do you know, Jo, that my mind is stronger than it would have been if I were not helpless? I can see things.' Can you see anything now, Dan ?' 'Yes.' 'What?' I can see something that will separate you and me, Jo.' 'For ever, Dan?' 'No, not for ever; we shall be together sometimes, and then you can tell me all sorts of things that I shall never be able to see myself.' 'Don't you think your legs will ever get strong?' asked Joshua. 'Never, Jo; they get worse and worse. And I feel, too, so weak, that I am afraid I shall not have strength to use my crutches much longer. Everything about me-my limbs, and joints, and everything gets weaker and weaker every day. If it wasn't for my body, I should be all right. My mind is right. I can talk and think as well as if my body were strong. Stupid bits of flesh and bone!' he exclaimed, looking at his limbs, and good-humouredly scolding them, 'why don't you fly away and leave me?' At this point of the conversation Mrs. Taylor called out that it was time for Dan to go to bed, so the lads parted. That night Joshua dreamt that he killed a lion; and Dan dreamt that Golden Cloud came out of the flower-pot, and that it wasn't dead, but only pretending. Dan had good reason for speaking in the way he did of his body, for it distressed him very much. Soon after the death of Golden Cloud, he grew so weak and ill that he was confined to his bed. But his mind scarcely seemed to be affected by his bodily ills, and his cheerfulness never deserted him. He had his dear winged companions brought to his bedroom, and they hopped about his bed as contentedly as could be. And there he played with them and took delight in them; and, as he hearkened to their chirrupings, and looked at their pretty forms, a sweet pleasure was in his eyes, a sweet pleasure was in his heart. And this pleasure was enhanced by the presence of Joshua, who spent a great deal of time with his sick friend. The tender love that existed between the lads was undefiled by a single selfish act or thought. They were one in sympathy and sentiment. Joshua was Dan's almost only companion during his illness. Dan's mother tended him and gave him his physic, which could not do him any good, the doctor said; but Mrs. Taylor's household duties and responsibilities occupied nearly the whole of her time; she could not afford to keep a servant, and she had all the kitchen-work to do. Ellen-Dan's twin sister and Joshua's quondam sweetheart-was often in the room; but, young as she was, she was already being em ployed about the house assisting her mother. She scrubbed the floors and washed the clothes; and, although she was so little that she had to stand on a chair in the tiny yard to hang the clothes on the line, she was as proud of her work, and took as much pleasure in it, as if she were a grown woman, who had been properly brought up. Notwithstanding the onerous nature of her duties, she managed to spend half an hour now and again with Josh and Dan, and would sit quite still listening to the conversation. Her presence in the room was pleasing to the boy-friends, for Ellen was as modest and tidy a little girl as could be met with in a day's walk. Susan, Dan's unfortunate nursemaid, was a young woman now. But she had a horror of the sick-room. She entertained a secret conviction that she was a murderess, and really had some sort of an idea that if Daniel died she would be taken up and hanged. She was as fascinated as ever with Punch and Judy; but the fascination had something horrible in it. Often, when she was standing looking at the show-and she was more welcome to the showman than she used to be, for now she sometimes gave him a pennyshe would begin to tremble when the hangman came on the scene with his gallows, and would then fairly run away in a fright. Ever since she had let Daniel slip from her arms out of the window, there had been growing in her mind a fear that something dreadful was following her; and a dozen times a day she would throw a startled look behind her, as if to assure herself that there was nothing horrible there. She had been sufficiently punished for her carelessness. For a good many weeks after it occurred, bad little boys and girls in the neighbourhood used to call after her, 'Ah-h-h! Who killed her little brother? Ah-h-h!' If she ran, they ran after her, and hooted her with the dreadful accusation. It took different forms. Now it was, 'Ah-h-h-h! Who killed her little brother? Ah-h-h!' And now it was, 'Ah-h-h! Who'll be hung for killing her little brother? Ah-h-h-h!' Such an effect did this cruel punishment have upon her, that she would wake up in terror in the middle of the night with all her fevered pulses quivering to the cry, 'Ah-h-h-h! Who'll be hung for killing her little brother? Ah-h-h-h!' But time, which cures all things, relieved her. The bad boys and girls grew tired of saying the same thing over and over again. A new excitement claimed their attention, and poor Susan was al |