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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

"Phil," he said faintly;
and then, with what we could all see was a great effort, he raised his
hand slowly and let it fall heavily on Phil's hand.
Poor Phil! that broke him down completely. Catching Fee's face between
his two hands, he kissed him warmly two or three times, and then,
dropping his head down on Fee's shoulder, burst into a storm of sobs.
"Oh, come, come! this'll _never_ do!" cried nurse, bustling forward.
"Come, Master Phil, this ain't any time for sich behaviour,"--mind you,
she was wiping the corners of her own eyes! "Now we must get him up to
his own room soon's possible; _then_ we can make him comfort'ble. Can
you carry him up? Me and Hannah can help."
"I can do it alone," Phil said quickly, beginning to gather Fee into
his arms. But I tell you it was hard work getting him up, he was such
a dead weight!
Fee knew Phil was making a desperate effort to lift him, and he tried,
poor fellow, to help all he could. When at last Phil stood erect, with
him in his arms, nurse raised Fee's hands and joined them back of Phil's
neck. "Now clasp your hands tight, Master Felix," she said, "and that'll
take some of your weight off your brother.


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