What Two Children Did | Page 7

a spindlin' lad named Dick nex' door but wan to where I live,
that can walk only wid a crutch an' not able to do that lately. He'd be
cheered entoirely wid your rhymes an' tales."
"O, maybe mother'll take us to see him this afternoon. We'll ask her.
She's intending to go down that way herself, I know, and she'll be so
good to Dick; she just can't help it," said Ethelwyn, and at once they
dashed off to see, leaving the saucepan crown rolling down the yard,
and their gingham aprons lying on the steps.

CHAPTER VI A Plan
It's nice to get gifts, But better to give: For giving leaves always a glow
That warms up a part In every heart; The joy of it never can go.
There was woe in Ethelwyn's heart and pain in her throat, and the woe
was on account of the pain; for Elizabeth and her mother had gone to
town to arrange things for Dick, who was to be taken to the hospital,
where he was to undergo an operation that would, in all probability
cure him. And now Ethelwyn, ever desirous of being at the head and
front of things, had taken this wretched cold and could not go.

Very shortly after Mrs. Flaharty had told them about Dick, their mother
had taken them to see him. His home was a long way from their cottage,
where the fisher people lived, and the sights and smells in the hot
summer air were hard to bear even for those who were well. Poor little
Dick, lying day after day on his hard bed, with no care except what the
kind-hearted washerwoman could give him, felt that life was an ill
thing at best, and he was fast hastening out of it, with the assistance of
ill nutrition and bad ventilation. Dick's own mother and father were
dead, and his stepmother, a rough-looking creature, when she
remembered him at all, looked upon him as a useless encumbrance, and
by her neglect was making him very unhappy.
Ethelwyn and Elizabeth, quite unused to suffering of this sort, sat
soberly by, during their first visit, and watched their mother bending
tenderly over the feeble little invalid, and ministering to his needs.
In a week's time they had changed things marvelously. The stepmother
had, for a sum that meant a great deal to her, relinquished all claim
upon Dick, so he was placed in the care of a sewing woman, who, by
reason of rheumatism in her fingers, could not sew any more; and she
filled the starving sore spot in her childless heart with a loving devotion
to Dick. The sum paid her for this care kept them both in comfort, and
Dick, with flowers and birds about him, and with wholesome, dainty
food, gradually lost his gaunt, hunted look and began to take a fresh
hold of life.
The doctor attending him gave it as his opinion that in one of the city
hospitals the little fellow might be cured, and it was to see about this
that Elizabeth and her mother had gone to town.
The night before they were all in their sitting-room, talking it over.
Aunty Stevens, who was greatly interested, had brought her knitting
and joined them.
"It would be a lovely work," said Mrs. Rayburn, thoughtfully looking at
the fire, "to make a home for Dick and many such poor little weaklings,
somewhere up on these heights where, with fresh air and good,
well-cooked food, they could have a fighting chance for life."

"There's our money," said Ethelwyn, cuddling her hand in her mother's.
"Let's make one with it."
"Would you like that?"
"Yes, indeed we should," they answered in a breath.
"But it would take a great deal of money, and instead of being very rich
when you grow up, and being able to travel everywhere and have
beautiful clothing and jewels, you might have to give up many things
of that sort."
"But," said Elizabeth, climbing up into her mother's lap, "isn't doing
things for poor children like Dick, better than that?"
"There's no doubt about it," said their mother, her eyes shining as she
kissed the tops of the two round heads now cuddled on her shoulders,
in what Beth called her "arm cuddles."
"Well, we don't mind then, do we, sister?"
"No indeed," said sister promptly, kicking her foot out towards the fire.
"Dresses are a bother, and always getting torn, and traveling makes you
very tired, only the luncheon's nice. But I'd lots rather build a home."
"Let's see," said mother, "if you are as ready to give up something now.
Elizabeth's birthday is next week and Ethelwyn's next month. I had
thought we might take a short yachting trip,--all of us, Nan,