Theo crossed over to Tommy's cot. The sick boy
had pulled his pillow over his head and was pressing it close to his
ears to shut out the racket.
"Le'me 'lone!" he exclaimed, as Theodore tried to lift the pillow. His
face was drawn with pain and there were dark hollows beneath his heavy
eyes. Such a weary, suffering face it was that a great flood of pity
surged over Theodore's heart at sight of it. Then Tommy opened his
eyes and as he saw who had pulled aside his pillow a faint smile crept
around his pale lips.
"Oh!" he cried. "It's you. I thought 'twas some o' them a-pullin' off
my piller. Can't you make 'em stop, Tode? They've been a-fightin' off
an' on all day." He glanced at the noisy women as he spoke.
"What's the row about?" asked Theo.
"'Cause Mis' Carey said Mis' Green's baby was cross-eyed. Mis' Green
got so mad at that that she's been scoldin' 'bout it ever since an'
leavin' the baby to yell there by itself on the floor--poor little
beggar! Seem's if my head'll split open with all the noise," sighed
Tommy, wearily, then he brightened up as he inquired, "What d' you
come for, Tode?"
"Just to talk to you a little," replied Theo. "S'pose you get awful
tired layin' here all the time, don't ye, Tommy?"
The unexpected sympathy in the voice and look touched the lonely heart
of the little cripple.
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