I must try it again some day soon." A happy smile spread all over Jules's face as he thanked her.

The words, "You are a good little lad," sent a warm glow of pleasure through him, and rang like music in his ears all the way down the lane.

How bright the world looked this frosty December morning! What cheeriness there was in the ring of Henri's axe as he chopped away at the stove-wood! What friendliness in the baker's whistle, as he rattled by in his big cart! Jules found himself whistling, too, for sheer gladness, and all because of no more kindness than might have been thrown to a dog; a pat on the head and the words, "You are a good little lad." * * * * * Sometime after, it may have been two hours or more, Madame Greville was startled by a wild, continuous ringing of the bell at her front gate.
Somebody was sending peal after peal echoing through the garden, with quick, impatient jerks of the bell-wire.

She hurried out herself to answer the summons.
Berthe had already shot back the bolt and showed Clotilde leaning against the stone post, holding her fat sides and completely exhausted by her short run from the Ciseaux house.
"Will madame send Gabriel for the doctor ?" she cried, gasping for breath at every word.

"The little Monsieur Jules has fallen from a tree and is badly hurt.