sufferer any comforts which he cannot
now see and enjoy. If comforts arise, he will enjoy them as they come."

"Now then, go on," said Hugh. "What else?"

"There will be little checks and mortifications continually--when you
see boys leaping over this, and climbing that, and playing at the other,
while you must stand out, and can only look on. And some people will
pity you in a way you don't like; and some may even laugh at you."

"O mamma!" exclaimed Agnes.

"I have seen and heard children in the street do it," replied Mrs.
Proctor. "This is a thing almost below notice; but I mentioned it while
we were reckoning up our troubles."

"Well, what else?" said Hugh.

"Sooner or later, you will have to follow some way of life, determined
by this accident, instead of one that you would have liked better. But
we need not think of this yet:--not till you have become quite
accustomed to your lameness."

"Well, what else?"

"I must ask you now. I can think of nothing more; and I hope there is
not much else; for indeed I think here is quite enough for a boy--or any
one else--to bear."

"I will bear it, though,--you will see."

"You will find great helps. These misfortunes, of themselves, strengthen
one's mind. They have some advantages too. You will be a better scholar
for your lameness, I have no doubt. You will read more books, and have a
mind richer in thoughts. You will be more beloved;--not out of mere
pity; for people in general will soon leave off pitying you, when once
you learn to be active again; but because you have kept faith with your
school-fellows, and shown that you can bear pain. Yes, you will be more
loved by us all; and you yourself will love God more for having given
you something to bear for his sake."

"I hope so,--I think so," said Hugh. "O mother! I may be very happy
yet."

"Very happy; and, when you have once made up your mind to everything,
the less you think and speak about it, the happier you will be. It is
very right for us now, when it is all new, and strange, and painful, to
talk it well over; to face it completely: but when your mind is made up,
and you are a Crofton boy again, you will not wish to speak much of your
own concerns, unless it be to me, or to Agnes, sometimes, when your
heart is full."

"Or to Dale, when you are far off."

"Yes,--to Dale, or some one friend at Crofton. But there is only one
Friend that one is quite sure to get strength from,--the same who has
given st