Part 12 (2/2)

Zaidee set up a shriek at the word.

”Be still, Zaidee,” ordered Cricket, slipping her hand over the little girl's mouth. ”You go and find poor Helen, and help her finish her dressing.”

Zaidee went off, sobbing, and Eunice asked, anxiously:

”Couldn't we plaster it up ourselves? I know papa says the edges of a cut like that ought to be drawn together as soon as possible, and bandaged. I know how he does it. He sops the place off, and washes the cut out, and puts strips of sticking-plaster over it, and then ties it up in a dry bandage.”

”Oh, it's a head you have, Miss Eunice,” said Eliza, who showed her Irish blood by her terror.

”You get some sticking-plaster, Miss Cricket, while I sop off the blood.

Oh, my pretty! my pretty! See! he's opening his eyes. Do you know 'Liza, lovey?”

The heavy blue eyes opened, languidly, and the yellow head stirred a little. The motion set the blood flowing again.

”Kenneth,” said Eunice, bending down beside him; ”here's sister! wake him up, if you can, 'Liza. Papa wouldn't let Zaidee go to sleep last winter when she fell off the bedstead and b.u.mped her head so. Baby! wake up, pet!” and she kissed him, eagerly.

In a few minutes, Cricket came running out of the house. ”We can't find any sticking-plaster, and we've looked everywhere. Edna says she doesn't know if her mother has any. What shall we do? I know it ought to be put together right away, else it wouldn't heal so well. Oh, wait!

I know!” and back she darted. Immediately she reappeared with a part of a sheet of postage stamps.

”These will do, 'Liza,” she said, excitedly. ”Now, is the cut all washed out? Here, I can do it. I've watched papa lots of times.”

Cricket knelt down by the baby and dipped a piece of linen in water. The flow of blood was very slight by this time. She wiped Kenneth's forehead off, carefully, over and over, and then the cut itself, looking to see if any bit of gla.s.s or sand was still in it. Then, with firm, gentle little fingers, she drew the gaping edges together closely, and held them, while Eunice moistened some postage stamps in water, and laid them in place.

”Cricket! how can you do that? How do you know how?” exclaimed Edna, who kept in the rear, since the sight of the blood made her feel a little faint and sick.

”I've seen papa _loads_ of times,” answered Cricket, in her matter-of-fact way. ”If only we had some surgeon's plaster. But that will hold for now. Bind this strip tight around it now, 'Liza. Baby, can't you talk a little? Do you know Cricket?”

”Tritet,” repeated Kenneth, with a faint little smile. ”Tritet take baby.”

”Let me have him,” begged Cricket, and Eliza laid him gently in his little sister's arms.

”Eunice, there's Mrs. Bemis coming over,” said Edna, ”I'm so glad.”

Mrs. Bemis was the doctor's wife. She came hastily up to the little group.

”I was out when Edna came, and just got in. The girl told me some one was hurt, so I came right over. The baby, is it? poor little soul! has he lost all that blood? did he cut himself?”

Eunice explained, and Cricket told Eliza to unfasten the bandage to ask Mrs. Bemis if it was all right. At the sight of four pink stamps, the doctor's wife exclaimed in astonishment:

”What have you put on for a plaster? It looks beautifully done.”

”Them's postage stamps,” volunteered Eliza, quickly. ”Miss Cricket couldn't find any sticking-plaster, so she brought this. Oh, she's her father's own child for the doctorin'.”

”I thought they might do,” explained Cricket, rather shyly. ”I knew I ought to have strips of plaster, of course, but I couldn't find any. I thought the cut ought to be drawn together as soon as possible.”

”You're a thoughtful child,” said Mrs. Bemis, warmly.

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