"That is more creditable to your heart than your head. Don't forget," said the doctor, speaking to all, "to watch yourselves closely. At the first appearance of headache, ringing in the ears, and fever, take those powders that I have left on the stand. This is one of the cases where an ounce of prevention is worth a good many pounds of cure. Nothing more can be done for the boy than to follow the prescription I have given you. I will be here again in the evening, unless he should become much worse, when you can send for me."
Tom Gordon will never forget that day and night. He refused to leave the bedside of his friend except for a few minutes. The farmer and his wife were equally faithful, and did all they could for the sufferer, whose condition seemed to show a slight improvement toward the latter part of the afternoon. So much so indeed that all felt hope.
Jim slept at intervals, but continually muttered and flung himself about. There were flashes of consciousness, when he would look fixedly at those around his bed, and smile in his winning way. He thanked them for their kindness, and hoped he would get well; but he had never felt so strange. It seemed as if his head was continually lifting his body upward, and he was so light he could fly.
After lying this way for some minutes, his hand, which rested in that of Tom's, would suddenly tighten with incredible strength, and he would rise in bed and begin a wild, incoherent rambling, which filled the hearts of the others with anguish.
It was just growing dusk, when Jim, who had exchanged a few words of sense with his weeping friend, said, lying motionless on his pillow, and without apparent excitement,--
"Tom, I'm dying."
"O Jim! don't say that," sobbed the broken-hearted lad. "You must get well. You are young and strong; you must throw off this sickness: keep up a good heart."
The poor boy shook his head.
"It's no use. I wish I had been a better boy; but I've said my prayers night and morning, and tried to do as mother and father used to tell me to do. Tom, try to be better; I tell you, you won't be sorry when you come to die."
"No one could have been better than you, Jim," said the elder, feeling more calmness than he had yet shown. He realized he was bending in the awful shadow of death, and that but a few more words could pass between him find the one he loved so well.