His mother's thoughts were
all concentrated on his scapegrace younger brother. For two years she
had rarely spoken to Yan peaceably. There was a hungry place in
his heart as he left the house unnoticed each morning and saw his
graceless brother kissed and darlinged. At school their positions
were reversed. Yan was the principal's pride. He had drawn no more
caricatures, and the teacher flattered himself that that beating was
what had saved the pale-faced head boy.
He grew thinner and heart-hungrier till near Christmas, when the
breakdown came.
* * * * *
"He is far gone in consumption," said the physician. "He cannot live
over a month or two"
[Illustration: "There in his dear cabin were three tramps"]
"He _must_ live," sobbed the conscience-stricken mother. "He must
live--O God, he must live."
All that suddenly awakened mother's love could do was done. The
skilful physician did his best, but it was the mother that saved him.
She watched over him night and day; she studied his wishes and comfort
in every way. She prayed by his bedside, and often asked God to
forgive her for her long neglect. It was Yan's first taste of
mother-love.
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