lie on a
board for two hours each day. Not an easy penance, by any means, for the
board was very hard, and she could do nothing while she lay there, as it
did not slope enough to permit her to read without great fatigue of both
eyes and hands. So the little martyr spent her first hour of trial in
sobbing, the second in singing, for just as her mother and Mrs. Minot
were deciding in despair that neither she nor they could bear it, Jill
suddenly broke out into a merry chorus she used to hear her father
sing:--

"Faut jouer le mirliton,
Faut jouer le mirlitir,
Faut jouer le mirliter,
Mir--li--ton."

The sound of the brave little voice was very comforting to the two
mothers hovering about her, and Jack said, with a look of mingled pity
and admiration, as he brandished his crutch over the imaginary foes,--

"That's right! Sing away, and we'll play you are an Indian captive being
tormented by your enemies, and too proud to complain. I'll watch the
clock, and the minute time is up I'll rush in and rescue you."

Jill laughed, but the fancy pleased her, and she straightened herself
out under the gay afghan, while she sang, in a plaintive voice, another
little French song her father taught her:--

"J'avais une colombe blanche,
J'avais un blanc petit pigeon,
Tous deux volaient, de branche en branche,
Jusqu'au faite de mon dongeon:
Mais comme un coup de vent d'automne,
S'est abattu la, l'epervier,
Et ma colombe si mignonne
Ne revient plus au colombier."

"My poor Jean had a fine voice, and always hoped the child would take
after him. It would break his heart to see her lying there trying to
cheer her pain with the songs he used to sing her to sleep with," said
Mrs. Pecq, sadly.

"She really has a great deal of talent, and when she is able she shall
have some lessons, for music is a comfort and a pleasure, sick or well,"
answered Mrs. Minot, who had often admired the fresh voice, with its
pretty accent.

Here Jill began the Canadian boat-song, with great vigor, as if bound to
play her part of Indian victim with spirit, and not disgrace herself by
any more crying. All knew the air, and joined in, especially Jack, who
came out strong on the "Row, brothers, row," but ended in a squeak on a
high note, so drolly, that the rest broke down. So the hour that began
with tears ended with music and laughter, and a new pleasure to think of
for the future.

After that day Jill exerted all her fortitude,