XI 



PETER^S GOOD FORTUNE 



T ITTLE Peter lay in a snow-white 

 -■"^ cot in a long white ward of the 

 children's hospital. His wan face was 

 only a shade or two darker than the pil- 

 low upon which it lay. It was a thin little 

 face pinched by want and suffering, and 

 a mere shadow of what it should have 

 been. His eyes were sunken, and one 

 wondered as he gazed into their sad wist- 

 ful depths, if they had ever danced with 

 joy, in the child's whole life, which, 

 judging from his size, was about seven 

 years. It might have been more, how- 

 ever, for city children are often dwarfed 

 by bad air, and poor nourishment, until 



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