"I hope I am," was the unexpected reply; "I've been asking God to make
me. I shouldn't think many people lived after their legs were cut off: I
know I don't want to!"

"But I want you to live," cried poor Dudley; "oh! Roy you couldn't be so
mean as to leave me all alone. Oh, do unsay that prayer of yours. You
mustn't die!"

"I'm going to get quite ready to die," persisted Roy; "and if you really
loved me you wouldn't think of liking to see me alive hopping about on a
wooden leg, I couldn't do it."

"Nelson lived with only one arm," said Dudley.

Roy lay back on his pillows to consider this; then he said in a tired
voice:

"Will you write what I want?"

Dudley seized the pen and in round, childish hand wrote as follows:

"When I am dead, Dudley is to have Norrington
Court for his very own, and he is to
live there instead of me. He can have Dibble
and Nibble too. Rob is to have my musical
box. I leave him my best tool box, and father's
red silk pocket-handkerchief which I
keep in the old tobacco pot on my chimneypiece.
I leave granny her sovereign which