So the night dragged by.
It was early dawn when Miss Price, in answer to the repeated call, again fetched water, and, as before, the child refused it.
"Take away that nasty old hot stuff, and bring me some cold!" he commanded, with a spurt of his usual lordliness.
The nurse gently urged him to taste it; but he only pushed the spoon away.
Dr. Dudley was about to speak, when Polly interposed with the first lines of "The Secret," a little song she had learned in her last days of school. Her voice was loud enough to catch the boy's attention, but the words were sung slowly and confidentially.
"What do you think is in our back yard?
P'rhaps you can guess, if you try real hard.
It is n't a puppy, or little white mice,
But it's something that's every bit as nice!
Oh, no, it's not chickens or kittens at all!"
"What do you think is in our back yard?
P'rhaps you can guess, if you try real hard.
It is n't a puppy, or little white mice,
But it's something that's every bit as nice!
Oh, no, it's not chickens or kittens at all!"
She broke off, her eyes smilingly meeting Burton's.
"What is it?" he asked feebly.
"Take some of that," she replied, pointing to the cup, and I'll sing "the rest."