owever, it was
rather a sober nurse in charge of Ward C who sat down that afternoon
with a book of faery-tales on her knee open to the story of "The
Steadfast Tin Soldier." As for Ward C, it was supremely happy; its
beloved "Miss Peggie" was on duty for the afternoon with the favorite
book for company; moreover, no one had discovered as yet that this was
Trustee Day and that the trustees themselves were already near at hand.

A shadow fell athwart the threshold that very moment. Margaret MacLean
could feel it without taking her eyes from the book, and, purposefully
unmindful of its presence, she kept reading steadily on:

"'The paper boat was rocking up and down; sometimes it turned round so
quickly that the Tin Soldier trembled; but he remained firm, he did not
move a muscle, and looked straight forward, shouldering his musket.'"

"Ah, Miss MacLean, may I speak with you a moment?" It was the voice of
the Meanest Trustee.

The nurse in charge rose quickly and met him half-way, hoping to keep
him and whatever he might have to say as far from the children as
possible.

The Meanest Trustee continued in a little, short, sharp voice: "The
cook tells me that the patients in this ward have been having extra
food prepared for them of late, such as fruit and jellies and scones
and even ice-cream. I discovered it for myself. I saw some pineapples
in the refrigerator when I was inspecting it this afternoon, and the
cook said it was your orders."

Margaret MacLean smiled her most ingratiating smile. "You see," she
said, eagerly, "the children in this ward get fearfully tired of the
same things to eat; it is not like the other wards where the children
stay only a short time. So I thought it would be nice to have
something different--once in a while; and then the old things would
taste all the better--don't you see? I felt sure the trustees would be
willing."

"Well, they are not. It is an entirely unnecessary expense which I
will not countenance. The regular food is good and wholesome, and the
patients ought to feel grateful for it instead of finding fault."

The nurse looked anxiously toward the cots, then dropped her voice half
an octave lower.

"The children have never found fault; it was just my idea to give them
a treat when they were not expecting it. As for the extra expense,
there has been none; I have paid for everything myself."

The Meanest Trustee readjusted his eye-glasses and looked closer at the