Quite deftly Dick wrapped the handkerchief round Marjorie's finger, and
secured it with a bit of string from another pocket.

"You ought to have something on it," he said, gravely. "Kerosene is
good, but as we haven't any, it will help it just to keep the air away
from it, till you go home."

"Goodness!" exclaimed Midget. "You talk like a doctor."

"I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up," said Dick.

"He is," volunteered Harry; "he cured the cat's broken leg, and he
mended a bird's wing once."

"Yes, I did," admitted Dick, modestly blushing at his achievements. "Are
you going right home because of your finger?"

"No, indeed! We never stop for hurts and things, unless they're bad
enough for us to go to bed. Give me another potato, and you open it for
me, won't you, Dick?"

"Yep," and Marjorie was immediately supplied with the best of the
potatoes and apples, carefully prepared for her use.

"Aren't there any other girls in Seacote?" she inquired.

"There's Hester Corey," answered Tom; "but we don't know her very well.
She isn't nice, like you are. And I don't know of any others, though
there may be some. Most of the people in the cottages haven't any
children,--or else they're grown up,--big girls and young ladies. And