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Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1831-1905

"Hans Brinker; or, the Silver Skates"

I shall come
again tomorrow. Give the patient no food today," and, bowing
hastily, he left the cottage, followed by his assistant.
His grand coach was not far away; the driver had kept the horses
moving slowly up and down by the canal nearly all the time the
doctor had been in the cottage.
Hans went out also.
"May God bless you, mynheer!" he said, blushing and trembling.
"I can never repay you, but if--"
"Yes, you can," interrupted the doctor crossly. "You can use
your wits when the patient wakes again. This clacking and
sniveling is enough to kill a well man, let alone one lying on
the edge of his grave. If you want your father to get well, keep
'em quiet."
So saying, Dr. Boekman, without another word, stalked off to meet
his coach, leaving Hans standing there with eyes and mouth wide
open.

Hilda was reprimanded severely that day for returning late to
school after recess, and for imperfect recitations.
She had remained near the cottage until she heard Dame Brinker
laugh, until she had heard Hans say, "Here I am, Father!" And
then she had gone back to her lessons. What wonder that she
missed them! How could she get a long string of Latin verbs by
heart when her heart did not care a fig for them but would keep
saying to itself, "Oh, I am so glad! I am so glad!"


Bones and Tongues

Bones are strange things.


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