I tried to sit up and I could not find a chair that suited,
although I had several sent from the stores. I saw she was distressed
about it but said nothing more and went home. About nine o'clock of
the same evening the bell rang. I had already retired. Soon I heard
voices and in a few moments Mr. and Mrs. Melvin stood before me,
smiling, and between them was a fine bamboo chair. After Mr. Melvin
came home from the city and while they were at dinner, Mrs. Melvin had
told him of my trouble in obtaining the proper chair. They lived on
Grove and Nineteenth streets and I on Thirteenth street between
Webster and Harrison streets. It was too late to have the chair sent
and these two kind-hearted people carried it all that distance to my
studio, and there it was for me to use. It was not possible for me to
hold back my tears at such a token of sympathy and affection. I'll
never forget how dear they looked, like two happy children bringing a
favorite toy to the sick child in the fairy stories we all know and
teach to our children. After I could compose myself I begged the nurse
to let me get up and try the new chair and when I was ready the
whole-souled James lifted me and placed me in the chair. Oh, what a
comfort at last! I could sit up without weariness and I was loath to
go once more to my couch. I begged just for one hour more and I
promised I'd sing for them. They looked astonished, not thinking I
could sing. I said, "listen" and sang three verses of Annie Laurie.
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