"Mother, mother!" cried the little girl, "Franky won't drink and his forehead is all sweat.

Can't I hold you up while you come to him ?" Mrs.Howard had been much worse that day, but she did not need the support of those feeble arms.

She felt, rather than saw that her darling boy was dying, and agony made her strong.

Springing to his side she wiped from his brow the cold moisture which had so alarmed her daughter chafed his hands and feet, and bathed his head, until he seemed better and fell asleep.
"Now, if the doctor would only come," said Mary; but the doctor was hurrying from house to house, for more than one that night lay dying in Chicopee.

But on no hearthstone fell the gloom of death so darkly as upon that low, brown house, where a trembling woman and a frail young child watched and wept over the dying Frank.