JANET’S CHARGE.
“Janet,” said Mrs. Bruce, “somebody is in the children’s cot at last.”
“I’m so glad, mamma. Who is it? A boy or girl?”
“A boy, and one whom you know—Frank Fenton. Yesterday his pony threw him, and broke his arm. I believe his leg was hurt also. It happened near the ‘Retreat,’ and he was carried there. When his father arrived, and found him so comfortable, he let him remain.”
“What good news! Think, mamma, of Frank Fenton lying in the bed that we little girls paid for. I wonder if he will like our picture screen.”
The “Retreat” was a private hospital, and Mrs. Bruce was one of the managers. Janet and her little friends had fitted up a cot in the children’s ward, from the proceeds of a fair, which they had held. Imagine their pleasure, when the first patient proved to be one of their companions.
As soon as Frank was better, Janet went to see him every day. She made an excellent little nurse, and the two had great fun over the screen, inventing stories to suit the pictures.
Janet now felt the sweet satisfaction of doing good. “Mamma,” said she, “when I hear the hymn, ‘A charge to keep I have,’ it reminds me of Frank. He’s my charge.”
JANET AND FRANK.