nly the wicked who are miserable. The
kind Father in heaven has so planned it that there is something pleasant
in everybody's life.

Freddy had no more idea what _sound_ is than we have of the angels in
heaven; but he could see, and there is so much to be seen! Here is a
great, round world, full of beauty and wonder. It stands ready to be
looked at. Freddy's ears must be forever shut out from pleasant sound;
but his bright eyes were wide open, seeing all that was made to be
seen.

He loved to go to Mrs. Parlin's, for there he was sure to be greeted
pleasantly; and he understood the language of smiles as well as anybody.

When grandma Read saw him coming she would say,--

"Now, Susan, thee'd better lay aside thy book, for most likely the poor
little fellow will want to _talk_."

And Susy did lay aside her book. She had learned so many lessons this
winter in self-denial!

These "silent talks" were quite droll. Little Dotty almost understood
something about them; that is, when they used the signs: the alphabet
was more than she could manage. When Freddy wanted to talk about Dotty,
he made a sign for a dimple in each cheek. He smoothed his hair when he
meant Susy, and made a waving motion over his head for Prudy, whose hair
was full of ripples.

Prudy said she had wrinkled hair, and she knew it; but the wrinkles
"wouldn't come out."

Grandma Read sat one evening by the coal-grate, holding a letter in her
hand, and looking into the glowing fire with a thoughtful expression.
Susy came and sat near her, resting one arm on her grandma's lap, and
trying in various ways to attract her attention.

"Why, grandma," said she, "I've spoken to you three times; but I can't
get you to answer or look at me."

"What does thee want, my dear? I will try to attend to thee."

"O, grandma, there are ever so many things I want to say, now mother is
out of the room, and father hasn't got home. I must tell somebody, or my
heart will break; and you know, grandma dear, I can talk to you so
easy."

"Can thee? Then go on, Susy; what would thee like to say?"

"O, two or three things. Have you noticed, grandma, that I've been just
as sober as can be?"

"For how long, Susan?"

"O, all day; I've felt as if I couldn't but just live!"

Grandma Read did not smile at this. She knew very well that such a child
as Susy is capable of intense suffering.

"Well, Susan, is it about thy sister Prudence?"

"O, no, grandma! she's getting; bette