Hospital, and I shall sell every egg my
chickens lay, for the same purpose."

After that Phil asked no more questions, but worked harder than ever at
his drawings, and as the season advanced, and flowers and fruit grew
more abundant, they were able to despatch a basket twice a week.

Every day was filled with new life and pleasure. Increasing strength
alone would have been a source of happiness, but in addition to this
Phil had the benefit of Aunt Rachel's loving-kindness, Lisa's nursing,
Joe's good offices, and Graham's pleasant, friendly attentions. Then he
was learning constantly something new, with eyes and ears, from the book
of nature, with all its wonderful pictures, and from the other books
allowed him.

Driving behind old Slow Coach and floating on the lake in the _Flyaway_
were some of the delights, and when more visitors came, and two charming
young cousins of Aunt Rachel made the house resound with melody, Phil
thought his happiness complete. But a new surprise was in store for him
when, after repeated consultations and measurements and whisperings, a
huge parcel was brought to his room, and Aunt Rachel and Lisa took off
the wrappings. Neither of them looked particularly joyful as a pair of
stout crutches made their appearance, but their faces changed
wonderfully when Phil gave a cry of glee, and said, hilariously, "Now I
can walk! now I can walk!"

He was eager to use his new helps, but it took a longer time than he had
imagined to get accustomed to them, and it was many weeks before he
could go down the garden paths (followed by Nep with much gravity, as if
Phil were in his especial care) with desirable ease.

Coming in from one of these rather tiresome attempts one warm morning,
and hearing music and voices in the parlor, Phil strayed into the
dining-room, which was darkened and cool, and fragrant with fresh
flowers. He lay down on a lounge, with his crutches beside him, and was
listening to the pretty waltz being played in the other room, when he
thought he saw a tiny creature light upon one of his crutches. Supposing
it, however, to be a butterfly, he watched it in a sleepy, dreamy
fashion, until it approached more nearly, and these words startled him:

"You do not know me?" said a tiny voice, rather reproachfully.

"What! is it you, my dear little wind fairy?" he asked. "I never dreamed
that I should see you again. How did you get here?"

"Blown here, to be sure, as I always am, only I have to