resently
turned his head a little to say, in a despairing tone,--

"I don't see what I _shall_ do without him!"

"I know it's hard for you. It is for all of us."

"You've got Gus, but now I haven't anybody. Ed was always so good to
me!" and with the name so many tender recollections came, that poor Jack
broke down in spite of his manful attempts to smother the sobs in the
red pillow.

There was an unconscious reproach in the words, Frank thought; for
he was not as gentle as Ed, and he did not wonder that Jack loved and
mourned for the lost friend like a brother.

"You've got me. I'll be good to you; cry if you want to, I don't mind."

There was such a sympathetic choke in Frank's voice that Jack felt
comforted at once, and when he had had his cry out, which was very soon,
he let Frank pull him up with a bear-like but affectionate hug, and sat
leaning on him as they talked about their loss, both feeling that there
might have been a greater one, and resolving to love one another very
much hereafter.

Mrs. Minot often called Frank the "father-boy," because he was now the
head of the house, and a sober, reliable fellow for his years. Usually
he did not show much affection except to her, for, as he once said, "I
shall never be too old to kiss my mother," and she often wished that he
had a little sister, to bring out the softer side of his character. He
domineered over Jack and laughed at his affectionate little ways, but
now when trouble came, he was as kind and patient as a girl; and
when Mamma came in, having heard the news, she found her "father-boy"
comforting his brother so well that she slipped away without a word,
leaving them to learn one of the sweet lessons sorrow teaches--to lean
on one another, and let each trial bring them closer together.

It is often said that there should be no death or grief in children's
stories. It is not wise to dwell on the dark and sad side of these
things; but they have also a bright and lovely side, and since even the
youngest, dearest, and most guarded child cannot escape some knowledge
of the great mystery, is it not well to teach them in simple, cheerful
ways that affection sweetens sorrow, and a lovely life can make death
beautiful? I think so, therefore try to tell the last scene in the
history of a boy who really lived and really left behind him a memory so
precious that it will not be soon forgotten by those who knew and loved
him. For the influence of this short life