may be able to get one of them to come down here, in a few days, to look
over my work. In the meanwhile your leg must be attended to so that no
further harm will be done. Let us have a look at it."

"I'll have to trust you," said Daddy, very soberly.

"Of course you will have to, Daddy," I put in. "You must be very good.
When you move your poor leg hurts you dreadfully, and the doctor will fix
it so that it won't be so painful."

I stood at the head of the bed and poor Daddy allowed me to stroke his
hand, a thing he usually resents. I know that he was in great pain and
feared other unknown tortures. The poor man looked at the tall doctor's
big hands as if he deemed them instruments of potential torture. One
really couldn't blame him for having scant confidence in a man whose
business appears to be the care of this poverty-stricken population.

The doctor was pulling off his heavy pea-jacket and appeared in dark blue
flannel which revealed very capable shoulders. They reminded me of Harry
Lawrence. The ancient mariner came in with a bag he had been sent for. He
had also deposited his oilskins on the porch and respected other
conventionalities by removing his great muddy boots and entering the room
in huge flaming scarlet socks, neatly darned with white yarn. He smiled
blandly at Daddy.

"Hope you is feelin' some better, sir," he said. "Don't you be talkin',
for if you isn't t'won't be no time afore you is. You're sure in luck as
how I could bring him, an' I'll jist lay yer a quintal as how he's goin'
to fix yer shipshape."