"I shall not be sick. I have slept enough. I will go and make you some beef tea, and get breakfast for Leo. I shall hear you if you call."
Leo had made the fire in the cooking-stove, and in a short time the odor of fried sausages pervaded the house; the beef tea was in course of preparation, and the coffee was boiling on the stove. Maggie was as busy as a bee; but every five minutes she ran into the front room, and asked André if he wanted anything. She went to the front door, where the baker had deposited half a dozen two-cent rolls, each of which was nearly as big as one sold for five cents now.
For a girl of fifteen, Maggie was an excellent cook; indeed, she would have been regarded as a prodigy in this respect in our day and generation. She had acquired all her skill from André, whose accomplishments were almost unlimited. When he first came to Boston, he had boarded out; but, when Maggie was eight years old, he had taken this house. At first he had done the housework himself, with what little help she could give him, till now she had entirely relieved him from any care of this kind. At this time he had taken Leo from the almshouse, to be her companion in his absence.
Breakfast was soon ready; and Leo was called up from the workshop, where he had already got out a portion of the stock for four small mouse-houses, each intended to accommodate a single pair of mice. He was still cheerful and hopeful, and went in to see André before he sat down at the table. He told his father he was sure he could make ten dollars a week by his splendid enterprise. He intended to take the palace he had finished up to State Street, for sale, at noon that day. The problem would soon be solved, and he was already nearly as well satisfied as though he had the price of his curious merchandise in his pocket.
After breakfast he returned to the shop. He was sad when he thought of staying away from school, and of giving up the medal he had set his heart upon; but, then, it was a very great pleasure to do something for his devoted father, who had been so good to him. It was a great sacrifice that he was called upon to make; but there was no help for it, and he tried to yield cheerfully to the necessity of the occasion. Gladly and hopefully he sawed and planed, and squared, and grooved, and mortised his work, and nailed the parts together.
At ten o'clock the doctor came. He was as gentle and kind as he had been the evening before. André was partially paralyzed on one side of his frame; but Dr. Fisher was quite hopeful of his patient, though it was not likely that he could go to work for some months. The physician was much pleased with Maggie, and when he was taking his leave he asked for Leo.
"He is in his shop at work," said Maggie. "Every one that comes here goes down to see his white mice; perhaps you would like to do so."
"I would," replied the doctor, with one of those benevolent smiles which all who knew him will remember to the end of their days.
Maggie conducted him to the basement, and then returned to Andre's chamber. The doctor examined the cages and palaces with wondering interest, though the mice were all asleep in their lairs. Leo put a little canary seed in the grand parade of each house, and this was quite enough to rouse them from their slumbers, and induce them to exhibit themselves to the astonished visitor.
"These are my performing mice," said Leo, pointing to a house in which seven full-grown ones were nibbling the seed.