"But you cannot. You are not able to lift your right arm at all, and you are so weak you could not stand up. Do be patient, and not think at all of the shop."
"Then don't think of the shop, or anything but our nice little home, where we have always been so happy."
"How shall we pay the rent if I lie here? Where will you get food to eat and clothes to wear?" demanded André, with something like a shudder of his paralyzed frame.
"I must. I was wicked not to save up some money."
"No, you were not wicked; you were always as good as you could be. The good God will take care of us."
"They will send us all to the almshouse."
"No, no; Leo is going to make heaps of money!" replied Maggie, though she had not much confidence in her brother's brilliant scheme, or even in the inventions that reposed in his active brain. "Can't you go to sleep again, _mon père_?"
"I will try," replied he, meekly. "I will if you go to bed, and sleep. What should I do if you were sick?"
"I shall not be sick. I have slept enough. I will go and make you some beef tea, and get breakfast for Leo. I shall hear you if you call."
Leo had made the fire in the cooking-stove, and in a short time the odor of fried sausages pervaded the house; the beef tea was in course of preparation, and the coffee was boiling on the stove. Maggie was as busy as a bee; but every five minutes she ran into the front room, and asked André if he wanted anything. She went to the front door, where the baker had deposited half a dozen two-cent rolls, each of which was nearly as big as one sold for five cents now.
For a girl of fifteen, Maggie was an excellent cook; indeed, she would have been regarded as a prodigy in this respect in our day and generation. She had acquired all her skill from André, whose accomplishments were almost unlimited. When he first came to Boston, he had boarded out; but, when Maggie was eight years old, he had taken this house. At first he had done the housework himself, with what little help she could give him, till now she had entirely relieved him from any care of this kind. At this time he had taken Leo from the almshouse, to be her companion in his absence.
Breakfast was soon ready; and Leo was called up from the workshop, where he had already got out a portion of the stock for four small mouse-houses, each intended to accommodate a single pair of mice. He was still cheerful and hopeful, and went in to see André before he sat down at the table. He told his father he was sure he could make ten dollars a week by his splendid enterprise. He intended to take the palace he had finished up to State Street, for sale, at noon that day. The problem would soon be solved, and he was already nearly as well satisfied as though he had the price of his curious merchandise in his pocket.