the' war mountains fer to hold everything whar hit belongs at."
"I shall bring you a box of paints to-morrow if the nurse will allow you to have them. I'll provide an oilcloth to spread around so he won't throw paint over your nice clean bed," he said to the pleasant-faced young woman.
"That's all right, Doctor," she said.
"Then you can make the blue stay on, and you can make the ocean with real water, and real blue for the sky and the sea."
The child's eyes glowed. He pulled David down and held him with his arm about his neck, and whispered in his ear, and what he said was:—
"When they're a-pullin' on me to git my hade straight an' my back right, I jes' think 'bout the far—far-away sea, with the ships a-sailin' an' how hit look, an' hit don't hurt so much. I kin b'ar hit a heap bettah. When you comin' back, brothah David?"
"Does it hurt you very much, Hoyle?"
"I reckon hit have to hurt," said the child, with fatalistic resignation. "I don't guess he'd hurt me 'thout he had to." He released David slowly, then pulled him down again. "Don't tell him I 'lowed hit hurted me. I reckon he'd ruthah hurt hisself if he could do me right that-a-way. You guess I—I'm goin' to git shet o' the misery some day?"