“The Rose-lady, mother!” cried Katy, pinching her own arm to see if she could possibly be awake.

It was all true, however; and that day the Connors family found a devoted friend.  Henceforth the Rose-lady took a special interest in Ellie.  She induced a celebrated doctor to go and see her.  The great man said there was a chance that the crippled child might be cured by electricity; and it was arranged that the mother should take her regularly to his office for treatment, Mrs. M——­ offering the use of her carriage.

Now Ellie can walk almost as well as ever.  She is growing stronger every day, and will probably before long be able to attain her ambition—­“to earn money to help mother.”

“And to think, Katy,” the little girl often says, affectionately, “it all came about through your wanting to give me that Christmas doll!”

BUILDING A BOAT.

I.

“Oh, if we only had a boat, what jolly fun we might have!” exclaimed Jack Gordon regretfully, following with his eyes the bright waters as they rushed along,—­now coursing smoothly, now leaping in the sunshine; again darkened for the moment, and eddying beneath the shade of the overhanging branches of a willow tree; then in the distance coming almost to a standstill, and expanding into the clear, floating mirror of the mill-pond.

“That’s so,” answered Rob Stuart, laconically.  The two boys were lounging on the bank of the creek, which, though dignified by the name of Hohokus River and situated in New Jersey, is not considered of sufficient importance to be designated on the map of that State, even by one of those wavering, nameless lines which seem to be hopelessly entangled with one another for the express purpose of confusing a fellow who has neglected his geography lesson until the last moment.

“Yes, if we had a boat we might explore this stream from source to mouth,” continued Jack, who was always in search of adventures.

“A canoe?” suggested Rob.

“That would be just the thing,” agreed Jack.  “But a regular canoe, made of birch bark or paper, would cost too much.  I’ll tell you what it is, Rob.  Jim and I have next to nothing in the treasury at present.  We haven’t had a chance to earn much lately.”

“I’m about dead broke, too,” replied Rob.

“I say,” exclaimed Jack, after a moment of silence, “suppose we make one?”

“Make one!” echoed Rob, surprised.

“Why, yes.  All we need is a flat-bottomed boat; and it ought not to be hard to put one together.  Uncle Gerald promised to give me some boards for my chicken-coops; perhaps he would add a few more if he knew what we wanted them for.  Let’s go over and see if he is at home now,”

“All right,” answered Rob, preparing to start.

Jack and Rob might almost always be found together.  They were of about the same age,—­Jack being fourteen on his last birthday, the 22d of January, and Rob on the 30th of the following March.  They lived within a stone’s-throw of each other, and had been friends from the time they were little chaps.