rs. Jo, because
just then her heart was very tender; and remembering that many of her
boys were fatherless or motherless, she yearned over them, and found
comfort in their blundering affection. It was the sort of food that did
her more good than the very thick bread-and-butter that they gave her,
and the rough Commodore's broken whisper,

"Bear up, Aunty, it's a hard blow; but we'll weather it somehow;"
cheered her more than the sloppy cup he brought her, full of tea as
bitter as if some salt tear of his own had dropped into it on the way.
When supper was over, a second deputation removed the tray; and Dan
said, holding out his arms for sleepy little Teddy,

"Let me put him to bed, you're so tired, Mother."

"Will you go with him, lovey?" asked Mrs. Jo of her small lord and
master, who lay on her arm among the sofa-pillows.

"Torse I will;" and he was proudly carried off by his faithful bearer.

"I wish I could do something," said Nat, with a sigh, as Franz leaned
over the sofa, and softly stroked Aunt Jo's hot forehead.

"You can, dear. Go and get your violin, and play me the sweet little
airs Uncle Teddy sent you last. Music will comfort me better than any
thing else to-night."

Nat flew for his fiddle, and, sitting just outside her door, played as
he had never done before, for now his heart was in it, and seemed
to magnetize his fingers. The other lads sat quietly upon the steps,
keeping watch that no new-comer should disturb the house; Franz lingered
at his post; and so, soothed, served, and guarded by her boys, poor Mrs.
Jo slept at last, and forgot her sorrow for an hour.

Two quiet days, and on the third Mr. Bhaer came in just after school,
with a note in his hand, looking both moved and pleased.

"I want to read you something, boys," he said; and as they stood round
him he read this:

"DEAR BROTHER FRITZ, I hear that you do not mean to bring your flock
today, thinking that I may not like it. Please do. The sight of his
friends will help Demi through the hard hour, and I want the boys to
hear what father says of my John. It will do them good, I know. If they
would sing one of the sweet old hymns you have taught them so well,
I should like it better than any other music, and feel that it was
beautifully suited to the occasion. Please ask them, with my love.

"MEG."

"Will you go?" and Mr. Bhaer looked at the lads, who were greatly
touched by Mrs. Brooke's kind words and wishes.

"Yes," they answere