"Jim, you will look after my father and mother, won't you? You know
I've got a little money now, and they will be comfortably off, but
you'll go and see them now and then?"
Jim laid his hand on the wasted hand of his friend.
"And, Jim, I want you to take my watch when I'm gone. I always valued
it as much as anything, and I'd like you to have it."
Poor Jim could say nothing, he only gave another pressure of his
friend's hand.
Then presently Mrs Reader returned to the room, and he slipped away.
The end was not long in coming. One afternoon as the four friends he
loved most stood round his bed, George opened his eyes, and said,--
"Listen!"
"What is it, lad?" whispered the father.
"An organ--somewhere--open the window."
They opened the window, but the only music out there was the chirping of
birds in the trees, and the distant footfalls of passers-by.
"Listen, there it is!" he said again.
"What is it playing?" asked the clergyman.
"A new tune."
And almost as he spoke the words, he closed his eyes for the last time
on earth.