"It ith a good day," he made answer. "There ith the woof-garden and there ith ithe-cream."
"And which is the best?"
"Bofe," said the child.
"That's right, little soldier; and what did you do in the garden?"
The child clapped his hands.
"I played," he responded; "an' I'm goin' to play ball on my legs when I mend."
One of the nurses came and stood for a moment at the foot of the bed. "He has learned a hymn for you," she said. "He is teaching the other children to sing—aren't you, baby?"
"Yeth."
"And you'll sing for the father?"
The child's mouth quivered with pleasure and his eyes gleamed. Then his gay little voice rang out in a shrill treble: