Part 8 (2/2)

”Can I do nothing to relieve the pain, dear father?” said Loo, as she wiped the perspiration from his brow.

”Nothin', nothin', dear la.s.s,” said John, with some of his wonted heartiness, ”except git me a cup o' tea. Mayhap that'll do me good; but the doctor'll be here soon, and he'll put me all to rights in no time.”

The idea of a cup of tea was a deep device on the part of John, who meant thereby to give Loo some active work to do and thus take her attention off himself.

”And don't you be uneasy, Molly,” he added, turning to his wife, ”it ain't a bad hurt, I'm told, an' it ain't hard for a man to suffer a bit o' pain now an' agin when it's the Lord's will. Come, that's the doctor's knock. Don't keep him waitin'. I knew he'd be here soon, 'cause Mr Able said he'd send him without delay.”

A prolonged and somewhat painful examination of John's injuries ensued, during which time little Gertie, with clasped hands, parted lips, and eager eyes, watched the doctor's countenance intently. After it was over, the doctor turned to Mrs Marrot, and said--

”I'm happy to tell you, that your husband's injuries, although severe and painful, are not serious. No bones are broken, but he has been severely bruised, and will require careful nursing for some time--and,”

he added, turning with a smile to the patient, ”no more rus.h.i.+ng about the country at sixty miles an hour for several weeks to come.”

Little Gertie began to breathe freely again. Her hands unclasped, and the colour came slowly back, as she crept quietly to the bedside, and, taking her father's large h.o.r.n.y hand, laid her cheek softly upon it.

”Are you easier _now_, daddy?” she asked.

”Ay, much easier, G.o.d bless you, Gertie. The doctor has made things much more comfortable. They've got a wonderful knack o' puttin' things right--these doctors have. W'y, it minds me o' my ingine after a longish run; she looks dirty an' all out o' sorts; but w'en I gits her into the shed, and gives her an overhaul, you'd scarce know 'er again.”

At this moment baby Marrot who had been sleeping when his father was brought in, became suddenly conscious of internal vacuity, and forthwith set up a l.u.s.ty howl, whereupon Mrs Marrot pounced upon and throttled him--to some extent.

”Don't stop him, Molly, my dear; you--”

The remainder of the sentence was drowned by the night express which rushed past, joining baby Marrot in a yell, as the latter freed his throat from his mother's grip.

”Don't stop him, Molly,” repeated John; ”you don't suppose that after drivin' a locomotive for eight years I'm agoin' to be disturbed by the small pipe of our own youngster. Let him yell, Molly; it does him good, and it don't do me no harm.”

It was now arranged that Gertie was to be head nurse on this trying occasion--not that the appointment was considered appropriate, but it was unavoidable, seeing that Gertie wanted it intensely, and her father was pleased to have it so.

Gertie had never before been called upon to do anything in the nursing way more serious than to look after baby when he had eaten too much or scalded himself--nevertheless, the way in which she went about her nursing would have done credit to an hospital training. She evidently possessed a natural apt.i.tude for the work, and went about it with a sense of the importance of the trust that was quite charming. She was at that tender age when such work becomes barely possible, and the performance of it seems quite miraculous! Her father gazed at her in bewilderment while she went about gravely smoothing his pillow and tucking in corners of blankets, and bringing cups, and tumblers, and spoons, and handkerchiefs, and sundry other articles, to a chair at his bedside, so as to be within reach of his hand. Molly and Loo, besides being highly interested, were intensely amused. It is a matter of dispute even to this day whether baby did not perceive the marvellous apt.i.tude of Gertie, for he continued for a prolonged period to gaze at her as if in solemn wonder. Mrs Marrot declared baby's gaze to be one of admiration, but John held that it was owing to the state of exhaustion that resulted from an unusually long fit of yelling. While he stared thus, Gertie, having completed a number of little operations and put the finis.h.i.+ng touches or _pats_ to them, became suddenly aware that every one was laughing quietly.

”What is it?” she asked, relaxing the severity of her brow and brightening up.

They all laughed still more at this, and Gertie, looking round for an explanation, encountered baby's glaring eyes, whereupon, supposing that she had found out the cause, she laughed too. But she quickly dismissed her levity and recurred to her work with renewed diligence.

It was well for the engine-driver that he had been trained in a rough school, for his powers of endurance were severely tested that night, by the attentions of his numerous friends who called to inquire for him, and in some cases insisted on seeing him.

Among others came one of the directors of the company, who, seeing how matters stood, with much consideration said that he would not sit down, but had merely looked in for a moment, to tell John Marrot that an appointment had been found for his son Robert in the ”Works,” and that if he would send him over in the morning he would be introduced to the locomotive superintendent and initiated into the details of his new sphere of action.

This was very gratifying to the engine-driver of course, but much more so to Bob himself, whose highest earthly ambition was to become, as he styled it, an engineer. When that aspiring youth came home that night after cleaning his lamps, he wiped his oily hands on a bundle of waste, and sat down beside his sire to inquire considerately into his state of body, and to give him, as he expressed it, the noos of the line.

”You see, daddy,” he said, ”the doctor tells me you're to be kep' quiet, an' not allowed to talk, so in course you've got nothin' to do but lie still an' listen while I give 'ee the noos. So 'ere goes. An' don't you sit too near baby, mother, else you'll wake 'im up, an' we'll have a yell as'll put talkin' out o' the question. Well then--”

”Bob,” said Loo, interrupting her brother as she sat down opposite, and began to mend one of baby's pinafores--which by the way was already so mended and patched as to have lost much of its original form and appearance--”Bob, Mr Able has been here, and--”

”Who's Mr Able?” demanded Bob.

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