bird was blithely singing, and a few flowers blossomed in the light.
But blither than the bird's song, sweeter than the flowers, was the
little voice and wan face of a child, who lay upon a bed placed
where the warmest sunbeams fell.

The face turned smiling on the pillow, and the voice said
pleasantly,--

"Come in, sir, Bess will soon be back if you will wait."

"I want nothing of Bess. Who is she and who are you?" asked the
intruder pausing as he was about to go.

"She is my sister, sir, and I'm 'poor Jamie' as they call me. But
indeed, I am not to be pitied, for I am a happy child, though it may
not seem so."

"Why do you lie there? are you sick?"

"No, I am not sick, though I shall never leave my bed again. See,
this is why;" and, folding back the covering, the child showed his
little withered limbs.

"How long have you lain here, my poor boy?" asked the stranger,
touched and interested in spite of himself.

"Three years, sir."

"And yet you are happy! What in Heaven's name have you to render you
contented, child?"