But Susie stood declaiming on the sand-hill, inspired by her own
eloquence, and gazed at with admiration by Amy for a courage she could
not match.

"O Susie, how brave you are!" she said. "They'd have to kill you to get
at it; you couldn't get at your heart till you were dead. I don't believe
I could ever be as brave as that. I know I should cry."

"It's called _weep_, my dear," said nurse, "when it's done by kings and
queens."

"Well, I should weep," said Amy. "And I make my wills quite differently
to Susie. I made a will this morning when it rained. You know you said
you were going to give me a paint-box on my birthday, nursie! Well, if I
live till my birthday, I'm going to leave it back to you in my will."

"You needn't trouble, Miss Amy," said nurse, "because if you don't live
till your birthday I can keep it."

"But that wouldn't be my _will_," said Amy, puzzled.

"But it would be your wish, my dear, which comes to the same thing."

"Well, mine would be my will, but it wouldn't be my wish," said Susie.
"It would be history, and things in history are never so bad as things
that happen to yourself."

"But it _would_ happen to yourself if it was _your_ legs and arms you
gave away," said Amy.