"Wasn't I always so?"
"Not quite so; it's new, a lot of it--at least to me."
"Comes from reading, I suppose, and thinking a bit, like a parrot."
His mother here entered the room, with a tumbler of wine in which Timothy's new-laid egg was beaten up.
"Timothy brought the egg, my love," she said; "it is new-laid."
"Did he, now? Lift me up, Tim, please."
Timothy raised the dying lad, and supported him in his arms, and Teddy drank the wine and egg slowly.
"It's nice," he said; "it seems to make me strong."
"The doctor said it would, my dear," said his mother; "it will help to make you well."
Teddy looked tenderly at her.