[CHAPTER III.]
CHARLEY'S SICKNESS.
AFTER the visitors had a gone, Charley begged his mother to raise his head by pillows, and let him look at the pictures in his new books. He amused himself for an hour in this way, and in spelling out a page or two of reading, when his head began to ache so hard that his mother took the books away.
By the time his father came home, he was a great deal worse. His cheeks were crimson, and his pulse beat very fast.
Mrs. Monson brought some ice and bathed his poor head with the cold water, and gave him a powder to check the fever. He soon fell into a troubled sleep, and talked wildly about Mr. Bryant, Oscar, new boots, and Ida, all mixed up together.
What do you think comforted his mother, as she bent over his couch during that long night? It was that, even in his dreams, Charley did not feel unkindly or unforgiving toward the wicked boy who had injured him.
Once he called out, "Don't, Oscar, don't! I wouldn't hurt you so;" and again he said, "Poor boy! I'm afraid I should grow wicked, too, if I had no kind mother to love me."
Many, many times the lady was obliged to wipe the tears from her eyes when she heard her poor, sick boy talk so kindly of his cruel companion.
Many times, too, she knelt by his low couch, keeping fast hold of his hot hand, and prayed to Jesus to make him well. Even in the midst of her care and sorrow, there was one thing that made her happy.
Can you guess, Susy, or you, George, what could make her happy at such a time? It was this. She felt sure if God called her darling child away from earth, he would go at once to live with his Saviour in heaven. I suppose you will want to know how she could feel sure of this, and I will tell you.