"Me? How can I, when I ain't a bit like him?" cried Tom, amazed.
"But you are in some ways."
"Wish I was; but I can't be, for he was good, you know."
"So are you, when you choose. Has n't he been good and patient,
and don't we all like to pet him when he 's clever, Fan?"' said Polly,
whose heart was still aching for her brother, and ready for his sake
to find virtues even in tormenting Tom.
"Yes; I don't know the boy lately; but he 'll be as bad as ever when
he 's well," returned Fanny, who had n't much faith in sick-bed
repentances.
"Much you know about it," growled Tom, lying down again, for he
had sat bolt upright when Polly made the astounding declaration
that he was like the well-beloved Jimmy. That simple little history
had made a deep impression on Tom, and the tearful ending
touched the tender spot that most boys hide so carefully. It is very
pleasant to be loved and admired, very sweet to think we shall be
missed and mourned when we die; and Tom was seized with a
sudden desire to imitate this boy, who had n't done anything
wonderful, yet was so dear to his sister, that she cried for him a
whole year after he was dead; so studious and clever, the people
called him "a fine fellow"; and so anxious to be good, that he kept
on trying, till he was better even than Polly, whom Tom privately
considered a model of virtue, as girls go.
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