Poor John was in sad trouble, for his father was very ill
and could not recover. No one besides the two of them was in
the little room. The lamp on the table was on the point of
going out, and it was quite late on in the evening.
"You have been a good son, John," said the sick father, "God
will be sure to help you on in the world!" And he gazed on
him with solemn kind eyes, drew a very deep breath and died;
it seemed just as if he were asleep. But John burst into
tears; he had no one left now in all the world, neither
father, mother, sister or brother. Poor John! He fell on his
knees by the bedside and kissed his dead father's hand; many
salt tears he shed, but at last his eyes closed and he went
to sleep, with his head on the hard bedstead.
