The next morning I was startled from a profound sleep by a tremendous peal of the door-bell.  Though only half awakened, my forebodings seemed realized; and the bell rang “Patsy” in my ears.

I hastily slipped on my dress, and, going to the door, saw just whom I expected,—­Jim.

“What’s the matter with Patsy?”

“He’s turrible bad, miss; he got took with one o’ them fits the worst kind in the night, and liked ter died.  Yer could a heerd him screech a block off.”

“Oh, my poor boy!  Have you had a doctor?  What did he say?”

“Well, he said he guessed it was the last one, miss, ’nd I’m afraid it is, sure.”

“Who is with him now?  Are you going right back?”

“Yes, miss, soon as I go ‘nd git leave from the boss.  Mis’ Kennett’s went to her washin’.  She couldn’t ’ford ter lose a job.  I found Mr. Kennett, ‘nd he’s mindin’ Patsy.  He cries for you; he says he don’t want nothin’ but jest Miss Kate, and he’s that crazy he wants to git up ’nd come to the Kindergarten.”

“Dear little lad!” I said, trying to keep back the tears.  “Here, Jim, take the school keys to Miss Helen, and ask her to take my place to-day.  I’ll start in ten minutes for Patsy.”

“Thank yer, miss.  I tell yer, he’s a crooked little chap, but he’s as smart as they make ’em; ’nd annyhow, he’s all the folks I’ve got in the world, ’nd I hope we kin pull him through.”

* * * * *

“Pull him through!” Had years passed over Patsy’s head since I saw him last?  He seemed to have grown old with the night’s pain, but the eyes shone out with new lustre and brilliancy, making ready, I thought, to receive the heavenly visions.

We were alone.  I could not bear Mr. Kennett’s presence, and had dispatched him for the doctor.  I knelt by the bedside, and took his cold hand in mine.  I could not pray God to spare him, it was so clear that He had better take him to Himself.

“I knowed you’d come, Miss Kate,” he said faintly; “I knowed you’d hurry up; you’s allers hurryin’ up for us boys.”

Oh, how beautiful, how awesome, it is to be the messenger of peace to an unhappy soul!  So great a joy is it to bear that it is not given to many twice in a lifetime.

The rain beat upon the frail roof, the wind blew about the little house, and a darkness of fast-gathering black clouds fell into the room in place of the morning sunbeams.  It was a gloomy day for a journey, but if one were traveling from shadow into sunshine, I thought, it would not matter much.

“Mis’ Kennett says I must hev a priest, but I don’t want no priest but you,” whispered the faint voice as I bent over the pillows.  “What does priests do when folks is sick, Miss Kate?”

“They pray, Patsy.”

“What fur?”

I paused, for in my grief I could think of no simple way of telling that ignorant little child what they did pray for.