One more caution still remains for me to give. Do not talk to the doctor in the child's room, do not relate bad symptoms, do not express your fears, nor ask the doctor his opinion in the child's hearing. The child often understands much more than you would imagine, misunderstands still more; and over and over again I have known the thoughtless utterance of the mother, nurse, or doctor depress a child's spirits and seriously retard his recovery. It is consoling to bear in mind that how grave soever a child's illness may be, the power of repair is greater in early life than in adult age, that with few exceptions the probability of recovery is greater in the child than it would be from the same disease in the grown person. This too is due not simply to the activity of the reparative powers in early life, but also in great measure to the mental and moral characteristics of childhood. To make the sick child happy, in order that he may get well, is the unwritten lesson which they who have best learnt, know best how to nurse sick children. It may seem strange, that from so high a purpose I should at once come down to so commonplace a detail as to insist on the importance, even on this account, of keeping the sick child in bed. At the onset of every illness of which the nature is not obvious, during the course of any illness in which the chest is affected, or in which the temperature is higher than natural, bed is the best and happiest place for the child. In it repose is most complete, far more complete than after early babyhood it can be in the nurse's or mother's lap, and free from the great objection of the increased heat from being in contact with another person's body. Nothing is more painful than to witness the little child, sick and feverish, with heavy eyes, and aching head, up and dressed, trying to amuse itself with its customary toys; then, with 'Please nurse me,' begging to be taken in the lap, then getting down again; fretful, and sad, and passionate by turns; dragging about its misery, wearing out its little strength, in deference to the prejudice that bed is so weakening. _The bed does not weaken, but the disease does which renders bed necessary._ A child frets sometimes at the commencement of an illness if kept in its own little cot. But put it in its nurse's or mother's big bed, set a tea tray with some new toys upon it before the child, and a pillow behind it, so that when tired with play it may lie back and go to sleep, and you will have husbanded its strength and saved your own, have halved your anxiety and doubled the child's happiness.