ant-faced and
rosy, and looked practical and good.

"He's such an odd little chap," she said.

"What be that--odd? Does hit mean this 'er lump on my back?" He pulled
David down and whispered the question in his ear.

"No, no. She only means that you're a dear, queer little chap."

"What be I quare fer?"

"What are all these drawings? Tell us what they mean."

"This'n, hit's the ocean, an' that thar, hit's a steamship sailin' on
th' ocean, like you done tol' me about. An' this'n, hit's our house an'
here's whar ol' Pete bides at; an' this'n's ol' Pete kickin' out like he
hated somethin' like he does when we give Frale's colt his corn first."
The other small boys from their beds laughed out merrily and strained
their necks to see. "These're theirn. I made this'n fer him an' this'n
fer him."

He tossed the pictures feebly toward them, and they fluttered to the
floor. David gathered them up and gave them to their respective owners.
The old doctor stood beside the cot and looked down on the little
artist. His lips twitched and his eyes twinkled.

"Which one is y--yours?" he asked.

"I keep this'n with the sea--an'--here, I made this'n fer you." He
paused, and selected carefully among the pile of papers under his hand.
"You reckon you kin tell what 'tis?"

The doctor took the paper and regarded it gravely a moment, then lifted
his eyebrows and made grimaces of wonderment until the three patients in
the three little beds were in gales of laughter. At last he said:--

"It's a pile of s--sausages."

"Hit hain't no sausages. Hit's jest a straight, cl'ar pi'cher of a
house, an' hit's your house, too, whar brothah David lives at. See?
Thar's the winder, an' the other winder hit's on t'othah side whar you
can't see hit."

The doctor turned the paper over and regarded it a moment. "Show me the
window. I--I see no window on the other side."

Again the three little invalids laughed uproariously at their visitor.
David smilingly looked on. How often had he seen the delightful old man
amuse himself thus with the children! He would contort his mobile face
into all the varying expressions of wonder and dismay, of terror or
stupefaction, and his entrance to the children's ward was always greeted
with outcries of delight, when the little ones were well enough to allow
of such freedom.

"Haven't you one to send to your sister?" asked David, stooping low to
the child and speaking quietly. The boy's face lighted with a radian