ice boy. His mother is just recovering from a
sever illness, so she has n't been able to come to see him yet,
and he feels pretty lonely."

"I wish he were down in our ward," returned Polly,--"that
is," she amended, "if Miss Lucy were only there."

"I shall have him transferred as soon as he is well enough," the
Doctor assured her. And then they were at the entrance of the
children's ward.

Away to the farther end of the room Dr. Dudley went, and Polly
followed. Some of the patients looked curiously at her as she
passed, for the news of her recent accession to the staff had
spread through the hospital, and nearly everybody was eager for a
sight of her.

Polly was thinking only of the boy whom she had come to see; and
when, at last, the Doctor stopped and turned towards her, she
glanced shyly at the lad on the pillow.

"David," began Dr. Dudley, "this is Miss Polly May, the chief
story-tell of the convalescent ward. And, Polly, allow me to
present Master David Collins, who had a race a week or two ago,
with a runaway horse, and who was foolish enough to let the horse
beat."

The Doctor's eyes were twinkling, and Polly let go a giggle; so
the boy ventured to laugh. A week little laugh it was; but it
helped to start the acquaintance pleasantly, which was just what
Dr. Dudley wanted.

"You can have exactly ten minutes to do all your talking in,"
was the physician's parting sally; "so you'd better hurry."

Polly's eyes and David's met in smiling appreciation.

"He says such funny things." praised Polly.

Polly did n't quite know how to begin to cheer the lad up. Her
tender heart was stirred to unusual sympathy, as she gazed into
the pitifully drawn little face, with its big doll-blue eyes. She
must surely say something to make David happier--and the
minutes were going fast. After all, it was David that was first
to speak again.

"Do you like stories?" he asked.

"Oh, I just love them!"

"So do I. You must know a great many. The Doctor said you told
them to the children. I wish there was time for you to tell me
one."

"I'm afraid there is n't to-day," responded Polly; "but maybe I
can stay longer when I come again."

"I hope so," returned David politely. "My mother read me a story
the evening before I was hurt. It was about a king and queen that
lived beautiful stories, and I was going to live such a brave,
splendid one every day--and then the horse knocked me down!
Such a lot of miserable