l scare."

"You did? Was that what you were smiling at? I mean just now."

"I guess so. And then I believe we were going to give three cheers."

"Well, do you feel like getting up?"

"Y-e-s."

He rose on his elbows, but sank back again.

"I guess, if you have no objection, aunty, I will lie a little longer."

"I guess you had better, for you took cold last night out in the porch.
Would you like to take your breakfast in bed, and have my little table
that I lend to people who are sick in bed?"

"O, yes."

"And would you like to have a piece of toast, a little tea, and an
orange?"

"O, yes. You are the best aunty in the world."

"Am I, dear?"

Aunt Stanshy was not very demonstrative, so that this "dear" was
exceedingly precious to the warm-hearted Charlie, as was also a small hug
that she gave him. While she was preparing his breakfast Charlie lay
quietly in bed, and heard the sound of the rain on the slanting roof. To a
tired boy in bed, and longing to have some excuse for absence from school,
what music is sweeter than the sound of rain on the roof? Let it be a real
north-easter sweeping in from the sea, pushing along a fleet of many
clouds packed with a heavy cargo of rain, and, as it advances, let this
wind sound many big, hoarse trumpets all about the houses and barns, up
and down the streets! An organ in church played by Prof. Jump-up-and-down
is nothing compared with such a north-easter; Charlie heard the grand
music of the wind. By and by he heard Aunt Stanshy's step on the stairs.
She came slowly up, up, and then Charlie saw her turning from the entry
into his room, bringing the sick-table and Charlie's breakfast She
bolstered him up in bed, putting two or three fat pillows behind his back.
Then she put the little sick-table before him. One side had been hollowed
in, so that an invalid could draw it close about his body. Charlie was now
the invalid to do that thing. What tea! what toast! what an orange!

"Now that you have some strength, do you want to dress and then come down
and sit with me in the sitting-room and see me iron?" asked Aunt Stanshy,
after breakfast.

"O, yes, and not go to school?"

"No school to-day, when that cold is on you."

Charlie crawled into his clothes and went down stairs to the sitting-room.
Aunt Stanshy was ironing. She generally did her ironing in the
sitting-room, as the kitchen was very small, and, on a hot day, it was so
hot there that one felt like sizzling at