can usually
find something lovable in everybody, if we look for it deep enough
and long enough."

There was a moment's hush, and then Elsie piped out:--

"David, can't you tell another story, please?"

"It is pretty nearly bedtime," Miss Lucy suggested. "If we have
one, it must be short."

"Oh, David, sing a song--do!" begged Polly.

"Can he sing?" queried Cornelius wonderingly.

"Beautifully!" answered Polly.

"You don't know!" laughed David.

"You never heard me."

"Yes, I do know!" insisted Polly. "They would n't let you sing
solos at St. Paul's Church if you did n't sing well--so!"

The children waited in astonished silence. This was an
accomplishment of David's which had not been told them.

Miss Lucy propped him up a little higher among his pillows, and
then he began the sweet vesper hymn, "The King of Love my
Shepherd is."

The children were very quiet until they were sure that the singing
was over. Then Brida voiced everybody's thought.

"Was n't that beautiful!"

Presently Polly was going about her little nightly tasks humming
the melody to herself. She was quick to catch an air, and with a
bit of prompting from David she soon had the words.

"Oh, you David can sing it to us together to-morrow night!"
cried Elsie, and there was a responsive chorus from all over the
ward.

Polly went to sleep singing the hymn in her heart.

Miss Lucy's cot was nearest the door, and shortly after midnight
she waked with the sound of a rap in her ears. Hastily throwing
on a robe which was always at hand, she answered with a soft,
"What is it?"

"Burton Leonard is worse," came in Dr. Dudley's low voice, "and
he wants Polly to sing to him. Get her ready as quick as you can,
please."

The little girl was dreaming of Aunt Jane. She was trying to hold
a tall ladder straight up in the air, while Aunt Jane climbed to
the top, and her aunt was fretting because she did not keep it
steady. "Oh, I can't hold on a minute longer!" Polly dreamed she
was saying to herself. "But I must! I must! Because Miss Lucy
said we were to do kindness for anybody we did n't love!"

Then she roused enough to know that Miss Lucy was bending over
her, whispering:

"Polly dear! Can you wake up?"

"Oh! David?" Polly's first thought was for her friend.

"No, darling; David's all right. Dr. Dudley wants you to come
down and sing to little Burton Leonard."

"Oh, of course I'll go!" Polly was wide awake now, and ready for
a