J. COLE. 83

I pointed to the bed, and with a whispered
“Hush!” beckoned him to enter.

The shock of seeing his loved little lad so
changed was too much for even his man’s
courage, for, with a cry he in vain strove to
smother, he sunk on his knees with his face
hidden in his hands.

But only for a moment he let his grief
overcome him; then, rising, he took Joe’s little
form in his arms, and in a voice to which love
gave the softest and gentlest tones said: —

“Joe, lad! Joe, little chap! here’s Dick.
Look at poor old Dick. Don’t you know
him? Don’t go away without sayin’ good-by
to Dick wot loves you.”

Slowly a little fluttering smile parted the
lips, and the blue eyes unclosed once more.
“Dick!” he gasped; “I wanted to tell you,
Dick, but—I—can’t. I — ain’t — forgot.
‘Own — up — to — it — wotever’ —I minded
it all. Kiss me— Dick. God— bless — missis.
Dick — take me — home — to— mother!”

And with a gentle sigh, in the arms of the
brother he loved, Joe fell into a deep sleep,
a ‘sleep from which we all feared he would