"Morton got it the other day. And I am looking for my mother to-day. I don't want to be married till she comes. Morton took my horse and sent for her."
Saturday passed and Kike's mother had not arrived. On Sunday morning he was almost past speaking. Nettie had gone out of the room, and Kike was apparently asleep.
"Splendid life wasted," said the doctor, sadly, to Morton, pointing to the dying man.
"Yes, indeed. What a pity he had no care for himself," answered Morton.
"Patty," said Kike, opening his eyes, "the Bible."
Patty got the Bible.
"Read in the twenty-sixth of Matthew, from the seventh verse to the thirteenth, inclusive," Kike spoke as if he were announcing a text.
Then, when Patty was about to read, he said: "Stop. Call Nettie."
When Nettie came he nodded to Patty, and she read all about the alabaster box of ointment, very precious, that was broken over the head of Jesus, and the complaint that it was wasted, with the Lord's reply.
"You are right, my dear boy," said Doctor Morgan, with effusion, "what is spent for love is never wasted. It is a very precious box of ointment that you have broken upon Christ's head, my son. The Lord will not forget it."