Heart of Gold

by Ruth Brown MacArthur

But oh, how I hate to lie here all day,

When I want to be out in the garden at play.

I want to get up and run and shout,

I want to see what's happening about.

There'll be no more climbing up roofs so high,

I must live in a wheel-chair until I die."

Hope's eyes, too, had seen the pathetic lines, and closing the book, she softly said, "Let's all write something in it as a surprise,—something of our own, I mean."

"And you make little margin pictures like Mrs. Strong did in Peace's Brownie Book," suggested Cherry.

"You mean her 'Glimmers of Gladness,'" Faith corrected, smiling a little in remembrance of the brown and gold volume which had helped while away the rainy days at the parsonage more than a year before.