Here he thrust his hand into his pocket, and brought out two silver dollars.
"Take them, Jimmy, take them!" said he. "Aunt Mercy's got plenty more that you can have when these are gone. And we don't care anything about the type you pied. I'd rather pi half the type in the office than see your leg broken. We can't any of us spare you. Live, Jimmy, live! and you may be proof-reader in our office,—we need one dreadfully, Jack-in-the-Box says so,—and you know pretty nearly everything, and can soon learn the rest, and we'll get you the green shade for your eyes, and you're awful round-sho—that is, I mean, in fact, I think you are the very man for it. And you can grow up with the business, and always have a good place. And then, Jimmy, if you want to use your spare time in setting up your poems, you may, and change them just as much as you want to, and we won't charge you a cent for the use of the type."
Ned certainly meant this for a generous offer, and Jimmy seemed to consider it so; but if he could have taken counsel of some of the sad-faced men who have spent their lives in proof-reading, I think, perhaps, he would have preferred to die.
Ned had scarcely finished his apostrophe, when Jimmy's little sister brought in a beautiful bouquet, sent by Miss Glidden to brighten up the sick boy's chamber.
Looking around, we saw that other friends had been equally thoughtful. Isaac Holman had sent a basket of fruit; Monkey Roe, a comic almanac, three or four years old, but just as funny; Jack-in-the-Box a bottle of cordial; and Patsy Rafferty, a small bag of marbles. Whether these last had been acquired by honest purchase, or by the gambling operation known as "playing for good," it would be ungenerous to inquire.
"How do you amuse yourself, Jimmy?" said Phaeton.
"I don't have much amusement," answered Jimmy; "but still I can write a little."
"Poetry?" said Phaeton.
"Oh, yes," said Jimmy; "I write very little except poetry. There's plenty of prose in the world already."
"Perhaps," said Phaeton, "if you feel strong enough, you'll read us your latest poem."