perhaps, you can cheer him up a little."

"Is he a big boy or a little boy?" asked Polly anxiously.

"I should say, about six months bigger than you," the Doctor
laughed. "He Is n't anybody you will be afraid of, Thistledown;
but he is a very nice boy. His mother is just recovering from a
sever illness, so she has n't been able to come to see him yet,
and he feels pretty lonely."

"I wish he were down in our ward," returned Polly,--"that
is," she amended, "if Miss Lucy were only there."

"I shall have him transferred as soon as he is well enough," the
Doctor assured her. And then they were at the entrance of the
children's ward.

Away to the farther end of the room Dr. Dudley went, and Polly
followed. Some of the patients looked curiously at her as she
passed, for the news of her recent accession to the staff had
spread through the hospital, and nearly everybody was eager for a
sight of her.

Polly was thinking only of the boy whom she had come to see; and
when, at last, the Doctor stopped and turned towards her, she
glanced shyly at the lad on the pillow.

"David," began Dr. Dudley, "this is Miss Polly May, the chief
story-tell of the convalescent ward. And, Polly, allow me to
present Master David Collins, who had a race a week or two ago,