Every morning Tom brought from the garden a handful of flowers and,
tapping gently at the sick man's door, handed them to the nurse, who,
giving him a more hopeful word concerning the patient, would send him
with light heart downstairs to his mother to report the good news. One
morning the boy brought a bunch of roses and violets, and gave them to
Enoch, the nurse, who received them with greater cordiality than usual,
remarking as he accepted the flowers: "Mr. Carl is much better. You shall
see him tomorrow."
The joyous-hearted boy bounded downstairs and, throwing his arms around
his mother's neck, repeated the words of the nurse. Enoch met Tom in the
hall next day. The lad was dressed in his best clothes and was nervously
impatient. "Now Tom," said Enoch, "promise me that you will not talk,
and you must not cry, and, remember, you can only stay ten minutes."
"All right! I'll promise anything, only let me see my Carl."
But Enoch's patience was tried at the very start. Tom tiptoed into the
room, and as he saw the pale smiling face of Carl and heard his welcome
he threw his arms around the sick man's neck, and sobbed through his
tears: "Carl, my Carl, you're nearly well, aren't you?"
Enoch, standing near the bed, placed his finger upon his lips, but Tom
did not recognize his admonition, and kept on giving expression to his
happiness. "Carl," said he, "God has given you back to us. I told mother
that he would, and he has.
Pages:
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43