"Sir,--We're afraid poor Master Johnny is very bad--he's been taken to
the hospital. He said, when he took ill, that it must have been a boy
he took out of the streets and let sleep in his bed. Oh, sir, we are so
sad! The young lady is better; but if Johnny dies--"
I could read no more. The excitement and injuries of the evening, added
to this sudden and terrible news of my only friend, were too much for
me. I don't exactly know what happened to me, but I have an idea young
Larkins was not able to get on with his postage-stamps much more that
evening.