They were both silent for a moment or two. John Porter was walking at his oxen's heads, out of hearing, if the children lowered their voices.
"Bessie," said Maggie, in a whisper, "John Porter might do it, mightn't he? He is big and strong enough."
"Yes," answered Bessie, "and he heard what papa said too; but he didn't say he'd go. Perhaps it didn't come into his head. Shall we try to put it there, Maggie?"
"Yes: maybe you can coax him to do it."
"I'll try, and see if I can make him compassioned of poor Dolly. John," she said, in a louder tone, "you are very glad you are well and strong; are you not?"
"Surely," said John.
"And you wouldn't like to be sick at all, would you, John?"
"Not one bit," said John. "I'd scarce know myself, for I never was sick in my life, that I remember."
"Then I s'pose you feel very thankful for it, and as if you'd like to help make sick people as well as you are; don't you?" said Bessie.