"What's the matter with you that you can't walk, Tommie?" demanded Kimberly.
"My back is broken."
Alice made a sympathetic exclamation. "My dear little fellow--I'm very sorry for you!"
The boy smiled. "Oh, don't be sorry for me."
"Not sorry for you?"
"I have a pretty good time; it's my mother--I'm sorry for her."
"Ah, indeed, your mother!" echoed Alice, struck by his words. "I am sorry for both of you then. And how did you break your back?"
"In our yard--climbing, ma'am."
"Poor devil, he's not the first one that has broken his back climbing," muttered Kimberly, taking a note from his waistcoat. "Give him something, Alice."
"As much as this?" cried Alice under her breath, looking at the note and at Kimberly.