“You ought never to have left your lessons without leave, or taken a cart belonging to a stranger all unknown to him, or gone off alone without telling any one about it.  And you were shown the folly and uselessness of such a proceeding by arriving on the scene and being utterly unable to extricate him from his position.  If children would realize their weakness and foolishness more in these days, they would develop into better men and women, but self-sufficiency and self-conceit are signs of the times!”

Every day the boys went to see their friend, and even Mrs. Selby allowed that they could be quiet and well-behaved in a sick room.  It was a long time before old Principle regained his health, and he seemed to have grown much older and feebler since his accident; but his serenity of spirit was undisturbed, and some of the neighbors who had before voted him close and cranky, now offered to come and sit with him, and learned many a lesson from his sickbed.  When he was at last able to take his place in the shop again, Roy’s mind was at ease about him.

“I was so afraid he was going to die as long as he stayed in bed,” he confided to Dudley:  “I hope no one will ever die that I like, it must be such a dreadful thing to have them gone.  I think I would rather die first, wouldn’t you?”

“We can’t all die first,” said matter-of-fact Dudley; “somebody must be last.”

“Well, I don’t think I shall be,” returned Roy, “that’s the best of being weak like I am.”

But this assurance brought no comfort to Dudley.

A few more labored letters came from Rob, and then one that stirred the boys’ hearts after he had been about three months away from them.  It was to say that he was going out to India in a draft, and had been allowed three days to come and say good-bye to his friends.

Roy was almost beside himself with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again; and when the day came, he insisted upon going to the station by himself to meet him.  Dudley perched on the garden wall awaited their coming.

Rob was certainly improved in appearance.  He held himself up bravely, but a softened light came into his eyes, as Roy, looking whiter and more fragile than ever, flung himself into his arms, utterly regardless of all onlookers.

“I’m right glad to see you, Master Roy,” said Rob, in a husky voice.

“Oh, Rob, you look so splendid!  And you’ve got to be quite a man!  Come on, I’m going to drive you home, and we shall be all by ourselves.  Now tell me, are you really and truly happy?”

Rob did not answer this question till he was in the trap being driven homeward; then he said, slowly, “Yes, I’m thinking I like it first-rate, but ’tis hard in many ways.  ’Tis hard to keep straight and do the right, when most seems to live the other way.”

“But most of the soldiers aren’t bad, are they?” questioned Roy with startled eyes.

“They aren’t out and out bad—­just careless, I reckon, but old Principle would say they’re lacking in principle.”