"All right," said Arthur; "but why are you not out to-day, Tom?"
"It is too hot, and it makes my head ache."
"You'll like the sea and all the fun there?" said Arthur.
"I don't know," said Tom listlessly.
"But you will see all the ships, and the donkeys, and the great waves tumbling in!"
"Yes," said Tom doubtfully; "but I shall not care about it, my back will ache so."
"Poor little Tom!" said Nellie softly, stroking his thin hand.
Arthur paused in getting out the bricks, and looked at him silently. What could he say? What pleasures were there in store for this helpless child? He could not run, or dig, or ride on donkeys, or sail ships. What could he say to enliven him? He did not think of anything just then, so he turned again to the bricks, and placing a small invalid table over the couch, he began to build a wonderful edifice, while Tom grew interested in spite of himself.
"That is like the church you go to," said Tom. "Mary and Simmons wheeled me as far as that one day, and I saw it; and I know it is like that."
"Well, I think it is, now you say so, though I did not mean it for it. But look here, I'll make it as much like as I can remember, and if you think of anything, you must tell me."