Go-bangs always are dangerous, and that’s the fun of the thing. Oh
dear!”
Jack threw his arms about and frowned darkly, but never said a
word of the wilful little baggage who had led him into mischief; he
was too much of a gentleman to tell on a girl, though it cost him an
effort to hold his tongue, because Mamma’s good opinion was very
precious to him, and he longed to explain. She knew all about it,
however, for Jill had been carried into the house reviling herself
for the mishap, and even in the midst of her own anxiety for her
boy, Mrs. Minot understood the state of the case without more
words. So she now set his mind at rest by saying, quietly.
“Foolish fun, as you see, dear. Another time, stand firm and help
Jill to control her headstrong will. When you learn to yield less and
she more, there will be no scrapes like this to try us all.”
“I’ll remember, mother. I hate not to be obliging, but I guess it
would have saved us lots of trouble if I’d said No in the
beginning. I tried to, but she would go. Poor Jill! I’ll take better
care of her next time. Is she very ill, Mamma?”
“I can tell you better to-morrow. She does not suffer much, and we
hope there is no great harm done.”
“I wish she had a nice place like this to be sick in. It must be very
poky in those little rooms,” said Jack, as his eye roved round the
large chamber where he lay so cosey, warm, and pleasant, with the
gay chintz curtains draping doors and windows, the rosy carpet,
comfortable chairs, and a fire glowing in the grate.
“I shall see that she suffers for nothing, so don’t trouble your kind
heart about her to-night, but try to sleep; that’s what you need,”
answered his mother, wetting the bandage on his forehead, and
putting a cool hand on the flushed cheeks.
Jack obediently closed his eyes and listened while the boys sang
“The Sweet By and By,” softening their rough young voices for his
sake till the music was as soft as a lullaby. He lay so still his
mother thought he was off, but presently a tear slipped out and
rolled down the red cheek, wetting her hand as it passed.
“My blessed boy, what is it?” she whispered, with a touch and a
tone that only mothers have.
The blue eyes opened wide, and Jack’s own sunshiny smile broke
through the tears that filled them as he said with a sniff,
“Everybody is so good to me I can’t help making a noodle of
myself.
“You are not a noodle!” cried Mamma, resenting the epithet. “One
of the sweet things about pain and sorrow is that they show us how
well we are loved, how much kindness there is in the world, and
how easily we can make others happy in the same way when they
need help and sympathy. Don’t forget that, little son,”
“Don’t see how I can, with you to show me how nice it is. Kiss me
good-night, and then ‘I’ll be good, as Jill says.”
Nestling his head upon his mother’s arm, Jack lay quiet till, lulled
by the music of his mates, he drowsed away into the dreamless
sleep which is Nurse Nature’s healthiest soothing sirup for weary
souls and bodies.
Chapter 3 Ward No. I
For some days, nothing was seen and little was heard of the “dear
sufferers,” as the old ladies called them. But they were not
forgotten; the first words uttered when any of the young people
met were: “How is Jack?” “Seen Jill yet?” and all waited with
impatience for the moment when they could be admitted to their
favorite mates, more than ever objects of interest now.
Meantime, the captives spent the first few days in sleep, pain, and
trying to accept the hard fact that school and play were done with
for months perhaps. But young spirits are wonderfully elastic and
soon cheer up, and healthy young bodies heal fast, or easily adapt
themselves to new conditions. So our invalids began to mend on