Maggie heeded the lesson of God’s little teachers, and met her father with a happy smile.
LAZY MAGGIE.
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.