His parents, and George and Emily, aided him to bear his misfortune; if possible, they would have lent him their own eyes.

And this, too, was a good lesson for him.

It taught him how dependent on one another God has ordained us to be, insomuch that all the necessities of mankind should incite them to mutual love.
So Edward loved his friends, and perhaps all the world, better than he ever did before.

And he felt grateful towards his father for spending the evenings in telling him stories,--more grateful, probably, than any of my little readers will feel towards me for so carefully writing these same stories down.
"Come, dear father," said he, the next evening, "now tell us about some other little boy who was destined to be a famous man." "How would you like a story of a Boston boy ?" asked his father.
"O, pray let us have it!" cried George, eagerly.

"It will be all the better if he has been to our schools, and has coasted on the Common, and sailed boats in the Frog Pond.