go AN ESKIMO VILLAGE 



of hymn-tunes, played slowly ; and there he used 

 to lie, blowing, oblivious of all else, absorbed in his 

 music. 



In due time, Korni was well enough to be up on 

 crutches. I called the village carpenter a solid and 

 elderly Eskimo and after many explainings and 

 showings of pictures on my part, and noddings and 

 shakings of the head on his, the old man went home. 

 He came back the next day with a very respectable 

 pair of crutches, but Korni would have nothing to do 

 with them. He eyed such supports with disfavour, 

 and there had to be a practical demonstration of 

 crutch-walking before he could be persuaded. But 

 when once he had tried ! It was difficult to get the 

 boy to bed at all. His continual cry was, " May I 

 get up now ?" " May I have my crutches now.^" 

 " Need I go to bed yet?" all rendered the more 

 beseeching by his big, limpid eyes. The crutches 

 widened Korni' s field ; he could visit all corners of 

 the ward, and, best of all, he could look out of the 

 window. He liked to look out of the window ; he 

 could see the boys at play in the village, and they 

 would look up and catch his eye and wave messages 

 to him. Sometimes he would beckon for his friend 

 Timmo to come and visit him, and the two would sit 

 doing puzzles, or exchanging news, or looking at 

 pictures. 



So long as Korni remained in the ward v/e felt 

 that he was safe. But his adventurous soul was 

 bursting with curiosity, and he started to explore the 

 corridors. 



" Kornelius," said I, when I found him stumping 



