I Make a Friend

Then, as I turned my eyes from the geraniums in the window and they
rested on the grey hair and florid face of Old Brownsmith, who was
busily bathing my forehead with a sponge and water, the scene in the
yard came back like a flash, and I caught the hand that held the sponge.

"Has it hurt the baskets of flowers?" I cried excitedly.

"Never mind the baskets of flowers," said Old Brownsmith warmly; "has it
hurt you?"

"I don't know; not much," I said quickly. "But won't it be a great deal
of trouble and expense?"

He smiled, and patted my shoulder.

"Never mind that," he said good-humouredly. "All people who keep horses
and carts, and blundering obstinate fellows for servants, have accidents
to contend against. There!--never mind, I say, so long as you have no
bones broken; and I don't think you have. Here, stretch out your arms."

I did so.

"That's right," he said. "Now, kick out your legs as if you were
swimming."

I looked up at him sharply, for it seemed so strange for him to say that
just after I had been thinking of being nearly drowned. I kicked out,
though, as he told me.

"No bones broken there," he said; and he proceeded then to feel my ribs.

"Capital!" he said after a few moments. "Why, there's nothing the
matter but a little bark off your forehead, and I'm afraid you'll have a
black eye. A bit of sticking-plaster will set you right after all, and
we sha'n't want the doctor."