on his feet, before he
would have had time to say Jack Robinson, if he had wanted to try. He
said "Thank you, ma'am," instead; and said it so gratefully that Mrs.
Bhaer's eyes grew soft again, and she said something merry, because she
felt so tender, which was a way she had.

"There are Tommy Bangs' slippers; but he never will remember to put them
on in the house; so he shall not have them. They are too big; but that's
all the better; you can't run away from us so fast as if they fitted."

"I don't want to run away, ma'am." And Nat spread his grimy little hands
before the comfortable blaze, with a long sigh of satisfaction.

"That's good! Now I am going to toast you well, and try to get rid of
that ugly cough. How long have you had it, dear?" asked Mrs. Bhaer, as
she rummaged in her big basket for a strip of flannel.

"All winter. I got cold, and it wouldn't get better, somehow."

"No wonder, living in that damp cellar with hardly a rag to his poor
dear back!" said Mrs. Bhaer, in a low tone to her husband, who was
looking at the boy with a skillful pair of eyes that marked the thin
temples and feverish lips, as well as the hoarse voice and frequent fits
of coughing that shook the bent shoulders under the patched jacket.

"Robin, my man, trot up to Nursey, and tell her to give thee the
cough-bottle and the liniment," said Mr. Bhaer, after his eyes had
exchanged telegrams with his wife's.

Nat looked a little anxious at the preparations, but forgot his fears in
a hearty laugh, when Mrs. Bhaer whispered to him, with a droll look:

"Hear my rogue Teddy try to cough. The syrup I'm going to give you has
honey in it; and he wants some."

Little Ted was red in the face with his exertions by the time the bottle
came, and was allowed to suck the spoon after Nat had manfully taken a
dose and had the bit of flannel put about his throat.

These first steps toward a cure were hardly completed when a great bell
rang, and a loud tramping through the hall announced supper. Bashful Nat
quaked at the thought of meeting many strange boys, but Mrs. Bhaer held
out her hand to him, and Rob said, patronizingly, "Don't be 'fraid; I'll
take care of you."

Twelve boys, six on a side, stood behind their chairs, prancing with
impatience to begin, while the tall flute-playing youth was trying to
curb their ardor. But no one sat down till Mrs. Bhaer was in her place
behind the teapot, with Teddy on her left, and Nat on her right.

"This