know, uncle Dick," Hazel lifted her eyes to him earnestly, "you know how it
says everywhere in the Bible that anybody that's afflicted goes to God and
He heals them; and what do you think! Miss Fletcher and that little Flossie
girl both believe God afflicted her and fixed her back so she can't walk!"

Mr. Badger smiled as he met the wondering eyes. "That isn't Christian
Science, is it?" he returned.

"I'd rather never have a garden even like Miss Fletcher's than to think
that," declared Hazel, as she went on with her supper. "I feel so sorry for
them!"

"So you're going over to-morrow," said Mr. Badger. "What are you going to
do; treat the little invalid?"

"Why, no indeed, not unless she asks me to."

"Why not?"

"Because it would be error; it's the worst kind of impoliteness to treat
anybody that doesn't ask you to; but I've got to know every minute that her
belief is a lie, and that God doesn't know anything about it."

"I thought God knew everything," said Mr. Badger, regarding the child
curiously.

"He does, of course, everything that's going to last forever and ever:
everything that's beautiful and good and strong. Whatever God thinks about
has _got_ to last." The child lifted her shoulders. "I'm glad He doesn't
think about mistakes,--sickness, and everything like that, aren't you?"

"I don't want sickness to last forever, I'm sure" returned Mr. Badger.

The following day was clear and bright, and early in the afternoon Hazel,
dressed in a clean gingham frock, took her doll and walked up the street to
Miss Fletcher's.

The wheeled chair was already out under the elm-tree, and Flossie was
watching for her guest. Miss Fletcher was sitting near her, sewing, and
waiting with concealed impatience for the appearance of the bright face
under the straw tam-o'-shanter.

As soon as Hazel reached the corner of the fence and saw them there, she
began to run, her eyes fixed eagerly on the white figure in the wheeled
chair. The blue eyes that looked so tired regarded her curiously as she ran
up the garden path and across the grass to the large, shady tree.

Hazel had never been close to a sick person, and something in Flossie's
appearance and the whiteness of her thin hands that clasped the doll in the
gay pink dress brought a lump into the well child's throat and made her
heart beat.

"Dear Father, I want to help her!" she said under her breath, and Miss
Fletcher noticed that she had no eyes for her, and saw t