ong time
Bridget ce come, and ce bring me to ze house, and ce put me in ze bed;
and in ze night I have got ze pain in my life."

I knelt down before the dear, stricken lamb, and blaming my neglect of
him, I kissed him many times, and tried to smooth the pain from his
little brow; but what I felt, words can never speak.

The next morning Little Jakey was regularly installed in the sick-room.

Days passed, but the doctors would not say that they thought him any
better. Some days, however, he was able to be pillowed up in an
arm-chair, and amuse himself a little with the toys the children were
constantly bringing him; for by this time the desire to do something for
Little Jakey had come to pervade the whole house.

Once, sitting by his little bed, I discovered that he was trying very
hard to keep awake, and I said to him softly,--

"Dear Jakey, why do you not shut those sweet eyes of yours, and go to
sleep? Surely you must be sleepy."

"Yes, but I tink I not sleep. Vile I sleep, ze pain make me groan, and
Mattie ce hear me, and ce not sleep."

Mattie was then very sick also, and lying on a little bed not far from
his.

One day Mr. Artman, a German, called on Jakey, who asked for his little
box of moneys, which had been presented to him mostly by visitors, and
placing it in Mr. Artman's hand, he said to him, in his own sweet way,--

"You vill keep ze leetle box mit you. Von time Jeem and Fred vill come
in ze America, and ven zey come, you vill give ze big money to Jeem, and
ze leetle moneys to Fred; and you vill tell zem dot I have go im Himmel
mit my moder, and mit ze baby, and mit Meme."

IX.

One warm day when I visited Little Jakey his bed had been drawn around
facing the window, and I found him sitting bolstered up there, with his
long black curls lying out on the pillows.

"My dear," said I, "I have brought you a bouquet, and let us pull it
into pieces and see what we can make of it."

Soon Little Jakey's bed was strewn over with the flowers. I do not
remember ever having seen him so cheerful as he was that evening. Making
a little hoop from a piece of wire, I twined him a wreath, while he
amused himself handing me the flowers for it, and feeling over their
soft leaves, and asking their names. Whether large or small, he never
asked the name of the same kind of flower but once. When we placed it on
his little head,--

"Vy!" he exclaimed, "von time my moder have vear ze flowers like dis. Ce
go vare v