He seemed to doze off about daybreak, and slept heavily off and on till nearly sunset.
Poor Teenie hardly ever moved away from his side, moistening his lips with water, and keeping wet the cloth that had been laid upon his brow.
Sister Leona had entertained but little hopes of him from the beginning, but had not calculated upon the end being so close at hand.
It was nearing the brief gloaming that follows sunset in these latitudes when he opened his eyes.
“Are you better, dear Johnnie?”
“Which I’ll be better prisintly, dear Teenie,” was the reply.
“Which I’se a-goin’ home fast, missie.”
Teenie began to cry.
“Don’t ee, don’t ee,” said the poor boy faintly.
“It allus did make me feel queer like to see you cry, Teenie.”