the gloom where a long ray of light streamed from the great house
warm and comfortable upon the cottage, like the spirit of kindness
which made the inmates friends and neighbors.

Meantime, that other mother sat by her boy's bed as anxious but
with better hope, for Mrs. Minot made trouble sweet and helpful
by the way in which she bore it; and her boys were learning of her
how to find silver linings to the clouds that must come into the
bluest skies.

Jack lay wide awake, with hot cheeks, and throbbing head, and all
sorts of queer sensations in the broken leg. The soothing potion he
had taken did not affect him yet, and he tried to beguile the weary
time by wondering who came and went below. Gentle rings at the
front door, and mysterious tappings at the back, had been going on
all the evening; for the report of the accident had grown
astonishingly in its travels, and at eight o'clock the general belief
was that Jack had broken both legs, fractured his skull, and lay at
the point of death, while Jill had dislocated one shoulder, and was
bruised black and blue from top to toe. Such being the case, it is
no wonder that anxious playmates and neighbors haunted the
doorsteps of the two houses, and that offers of help poured in.

Frank, having tied up the bell and put a notice in the lighted
side-window, saying, "Go to the back door," sat in the parlor,
supported by his chum, Gus, while Ed played softly on the piano,
hoping to lull Jack to sleep. It did soothe him, for a very sweet
friendship existed between the tall youth and the lad of thirteen.
Ed went with the big fellows, but always had a kind word for the
smaller boys; and affectionate Jack, never ashamed to show his