“Take Jill, too, for it’s my opinion she has broken her back. She
can’t stir one bit,” announced Molly Loo, with a droll air of
triumph, as if rather pleased than otherwise to have her patient hurt
the worse; for Jack’s wound was very effective, and Molly had a
taste for the tragic.
This cheerful statement was greeted with a wail from Susan and
howls from Boo, who had earned that name from the ease with
which, on all occasions, he could burst into a dismal roar without
shedding a tear, and stop as suddenly as he began.
“Oh, I am so sorry! It was my fault; I shouldn’t have let her do it,”
said Jack, distressfully.
“It was all my fault; I made him. If I d broken every bone I’ve got,
it would serve me right. Don’t help me, anybody; I m a wicked
thing, and I deserve to lie here and freeze and starve and die!”
cried Jill, piling up punishments in her remorseful anguish of mind
and body.
“But we want to help you, and we can settle about blame by and
by,” whispered Merry with a kiss; for she adored dashing Jill, and
never would own that she did wrong.
“Here come the wood-sleds just in time. I’ll cut away and tell one
of them to hurry up.” And, freeing himself from his sisters, Gus
went off at a great pace, proving that the long legs carried a
sensible head as well as a kind heart.
As the first sled approached, an air of relief pervaded the agitated
party, for it was driven by Mr. Grant, a big, benevolent-looking
farmer, who surveyed the scene with the sympathetic interest of a
man and a father.
“Had a little accident, have you? Well, that’s a pretty likely place
for a spill. Tried it once myself and broke the bridge of my nose,”
he said, tapping that massive feature with a laugh which showed
that fifty years of farming had not taken all the boy out of him.
“Now then, let’s see about this little chore, and lively, too, for it’s
late, and these parties ought to be housed,” he added, throwing
down his whip, pushing back his cap, and nodding at the wounded
with a reassuring smile.
“Jill first, please, sir,” said Ed, the gentle squire of dames,
spreading his overcoat on the sled as eagerly as ever Raleigh laid
down his velvet cloak for a queen to walk upon.
“All right. Just lay easy, my dear, and I won’t hurt you a mite if I
can help it.”
Careful as Mr. Grant was, Jill could have screamed with pain as he
lifted her; but she set her lips and bore it with the courage of a
little Indian; for all the lads were looking on, and Jill was proud to
show that a girl could bear as much as a boy. She hid her face in
the coat as soon as she was settled, to hide the tears that would
come, and by the time Jack was placed beside her, she had quite a
little cistern of salt water stored up in Ed’s coat-pocket.
Then the mournful procession set forth, Mr. Grant driving the
oxen, the girls clustering about the interesting invalids on the sled,
while the boys came behind like a guard of honor, leaving the hill
deserted by all but Joe, who had returned to hover about the fatal
fence, and poor “Thunderbolt,” split asunder, lying on the bank to
mark the spot where the great catastrophe occurred.
Chapter 2 Two Penitents
Jack and Jill never cared to say much about the night which
followed the first coasting party of the season, for it was the
saddest and the hardest their short lives had ever known. Jack
suffered most in body; for the setting of the broken leg was such a
painful job, that it wrung several sharp cries from him, and made
Frank, who helped, quite weak and white with sympathy, when it
was over. The wounded head ached dreadfully, and the poor boy
felt as if bruised all over, for he had the worst of the fall. Dr.
Whiting spoke cheerfully of the case, and made so light of broken