made just alike, like red flower-pots. We have to feel and guess before
we can make out just how other people go, and how we ought to take hold
of them. It is very interesting, I advise you to try it. And while you
are trying, you will learn all sorts of things which will help you to
help others."

"If I only could!" sighed Katy. "Are there any other studies in the
School, Cousin Helen?"

"Yes, there's the lesson of Hopefulness. That class has ever so many
teachers. The Sun is one. He sits outside the window all day waiting a
chance to slip in and get at his pupil. He's a first-rate teacher, too.
I wouldn't shut him out, if I were you.

"Every morning, the first thing when I woke up, I would say to myself:
'I am going to get well, so Papa thinks. Perhaps it may be to-morrow.
So, in case this _should_ be the last day of my sickness, let me spend
it _beauti-_fully, and make my sick-room so pleasant that everybody
will like to remember it.'

"Then, there is one more lesson, Katy--the lesson of Neatness.
School-rooms must be kept in order, you know. A sick person ought to be
as fresh and dainty as a rose."

"But it is such a fuss," pleaded Katy. "I don't believe you've any idea
what a bother it is to always be nice and in order. You never were
careless like me, Cousin Helen; you were born neat."

"Oh, was I?" said her Cousin. "Well, Katy, we won't dispute that point,
but I'll tell you a story, if you like, about a girl I once knew, who