MRS. SHORT. 
107 
will tell her as soon as we get home; and 
perhaps she will come this afternoon.” 
Jack seemed very thankful; and the boys 
now took their leave, promising to come 
again soon. As they were going down the hill 
in front of the house, they met Mrs. Short, 
in a dirty, torn calico dress, coming up. 
“Do tell, hoys, if you’ve been to our 
house!” she said. “If I’d known I was 
going to have company, I’d have picked up a 
little; but Jack’s being sick puts me about 
so I don’t seem to have time for nothing.” 
Sidney only wondered whether any one 
could be so sick as to keep her in the house. 
“Jack is very ill,” he observed. 
“Yes: he’s dreadful bad by spells; and it 
is a sight of work to take care of him. He’s 
dreadful troublesome when he’s sick. I 
hope he won’t be down long, I’m sure.” 
The boys bade her good-morning, and 
went on their way,—Sidney for once very 
silent. “Isn’t it queer, Dick,” he observed 
at last, “that Jack should be so frightened 
at the idea of dying ? I always thought he 
would not be afraid of any thing. I have 
seen him run across the mill-dam twenty 
times when the water was so deep in it that 
