th happiness at
restoring that joy. "Was there ever such another? Why, in one hour, and
without spendin' a penny, I could be readin' all seven o' yer books!
Yes, yes! In that grand book temple I told ye about--the one with the
steps that lead up (oh, but they're elegant), and the lions big as
horses."

"I know," said Johnnie. "I remember. I--I was there 'way late last
night--in a think."

"Why, little reader dear, in that temple, and out o' it, shure and
there's enough Aladdins t' pave half a mile o' Fifth Avenue! and it's
likely ye could put up a Woolworth Building with nothin' but Crusoes and
Mohicans!"

"I'm so glad! So glad! _My!_"

"And Father Pat's glad," added the priest. As he stood once more, he
lifted a smiling face to the ceiling; and up past the kitchen of the
little Jewish lady he sent a prayer of gratitude to his Maker for the
blessing of that instrument of man's genius, the printing press.

Then he fell to pacing the floor, now glancing at the clock, again
taking out his watch and clicking its cover. Between these silent
inquiries regarding the time, he played impatiently with the cross which
hung against his coat on a black ribbon. It was plain that he was
expecting some one.

Big Tom understood as much, and finally was moved to speech. "Y' won't
bring no doctor in here," he announced. "I won't have no foolishness o'
that kind."

Father Pat ignored him. But to Mrs. Kukor, "Shure, and ye could boil a
leg o' mutton while ye wait for that gentleman," he observed.

After that, for a while, the kitchen was quiet. Mrs. Kukor left on an
errand to her own flat, coming back almost at once with two eggs
deliciously scrambled on toast, and some stewed berries, tart and tasty.
These delicacies had a wonderfully reviving effect upon both Cis and
Johnnie, and the latter even found himself able to sit up to eat.

"Now I'm so weak," he told Father Pat, "wouldn't this be a' awful fine
time t' play shipwreck with Crusoe, and git washed on shore more dead'n
alive?"

"Now, then, it just would!" agreed the priest. "But as ye've been near
dead once this day, shure, ye'd best think o' stayin' alive for a
change."

The last bit of egg was eaten, the last nibble of toast, too, and the
fruit. "Oh, yes, I'm too tired t' think 'bout a wreck," admitted
Johnnie.

"Rest, lad dear! Rest!" The quilt was tucked round the weary limbs.

One of those big-girl hands reached up and drew the priest's head lower.
"I guess whe