“‘They cannot hear us. What will we do?’ cried one mother on her knees before the gate, trying in vain to push her way through.
“‘The lame boy, where is he?’ queried the Mayor in anguished tones.
“‘Fast asleep in his bed,’ replied his mother.
“‘Go quickly and bring him!’ cried the Mayor. ‘No one knows how soon the Portal may swing shut.’
“The beauty of the scene almost overwhelmed him”
“The father and mother hastened to the little home and to the crib where the boy lay sleeping sweetly, bathed in the glow of the silvery light.
“‘Come,’ whispered the mother. ‘Come.’
“The boy opened his eyes, sprang into his father’s arms, and they hastened again up the mountain path.
“‘The door is open,’ he cried joyously. ‘Now I can have some one to play with!’