ny weeks. Georgie felt very sorry for him.

"Sickness and pain are bad enough," he thought, "even when one can
feel that it is our good and loving Father who has sent them; but what
must they be to him?" And he asked his mother's leave to go to see if
he could be of any use to Alick. His mother consented, and resolutely
turning his mind from the cricket-match just beginning in the
school-yard, George went.

He found the poor boy in a pitiable state. His face was swelled from
the effect of the cuts and bruises; one eye was quite closed up, and
the other he could only open a little way, for a minute at a time. He
could not turn himself in bed,--the sprained arm was bound to his
side; he could do nothing to amuse himself; and in that motherless,
sisterless home, there was no one to devise amusement for him. His
father was kind and anxious about him; but it never occurred to him to
sit by his bedside, and try to make the time pass pleasantly; and
even if it had occurred to him, he would not have known how to do it.
All that money could buy Alick had in abundance; but tenderness and
kind companionship were what he most wanted, and these could not be
bought.

He seemed pleased to see Georgie, and gladly accepted his offer to sit
for a little with him and read to him. Georgie read aloud very well,
and with great spirit, and Alick was delighted with an amusement which
was quite new to him. The hour Georgie was allowed to give him passed
most delightfully, and when Georgie rose to go away, he was eagerly
asked to come back the next day.

The next, and the next, and many succeeding afternoons, Georgie spent
by Alick's bedside, reading or chatting to him; and when he was able
to use his arms, playing with him at chess, draughts, or any such game
that Alick liked. That tender pity which God had put into Georgie's
heart for the poor wicked boy, he kept fresh and warm from day to day;
and Georgie never grudged the time or trouble which he gave to
Alick,--never lost patience with him, however fretful and unreasonable
he might be, but was ever ready to do what Alick wished, whether he
himself liked it or not.

One afternoon they had played for a long time at a favourite game of
Alick's, but one which Georgie thought very tiresome.

"Well, that is one of the nicest games in the world," said Alick,
stretching himself back upon his pillows when the game was done.
"Isn't it? Don't you like it?"

"No," said Georgie, looking up with