, and whiter, and weaker--a perfect shadow
of a little boy; but still he would not give up his share of the work,
until one day he woke up from what seemed to him to have been a long
sleep, and found that he was lying in bed, in a room which was still
called the "nursery," and that he felt very tired and weak. He pulled
aside the curtain with a feeble little hand, and saw Roger sitting there
quite quietly, with his head bent over a book. How strange everything
was! What did it all mean? Then Roger raised his head.

"Oh, you're awake!" he said looking very pleased, "I will go and call
nurse."

He was going away on tip-toe, but Gabriel beckoned to him and he came
near.

"Roger," he said in a small whispering voice, "why am I in this room?"

"You're not to talk," said Roger. "You've been ill for a long time--a
fever--and oh," clasping his hands, "how you have been going on about
the pigs! You tried to get out of bed no end of times to go and feed
them; and I heard the doctor say to father, `We must manage to subdue
this restlessness--he _must_ have some quiet sleep.' And oh, we were
all so glad when you went to sleep, and now you will get quite well
soon."

Gabriel tried to say, "How are the pigs?" but he was really too weak, so
he only smiled, and Roger hurried out of the room to call the nurse.

Later on, when he was getting quite strong again, he heard all about it,
and how, by his father's advice, the pigs had been sold to a
neighbouring farmer.

"And they _are_ such jolly pigs," said Roger; "he says he never saw such
likely ones. And they knew me when I went to see them, and rubbed
against my legs. You see," he added, "it was really best to sell them,
because father says we are to go to school at Brighton soon, and then we
couldn't see after the farm."

So this was the end of the co-operative plan. Not carried out after
all, in spite of the patience and care bestowed upon it; but I feel sure
that in after years Roger and Gabriel were not unsuccessful men, if they
learnt their lessons at school and in life with half the determination
they used in rearing the black pigs.

THE END.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Frank, by Amy Walton

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