Nicky took hold of her grandmother’s hands and squeezed them tight and said, “Grandmother, you have the best hands in the whole wide world. I want mine to be just the same.
Eighty-three years old to-day! Grandmother Wells leaned back in her easy chair, her poor, crippled hands resting in her lap. For six months she had not left that chair except to be carried to the bed, or the lounge by the window. She was a lovely old lady.