"I wish some one else would get hurt," he said abruptly, without stopping
to think.
"Oh, you beggar!" It was Curtis Park who turned on him, though every boy
had glanced up in surprise.
"We can't have such fun," said Porter, waving his sticky hands in both
directions, "unless they do," and he twisted uncomfortably in his chair, as
he realized the effect of his words.
"Well, we must think of somebody else to help with our Comfort committee,"
said Mrs. Sterling from her sofa. "Don't worry, Porter, we won't let
ourselves die out for want of work. Boys--" She looked at them suddenly,
and raised herself on her elbow, Gibson over in her watchful corner
trotting across in great apprehension.
"Mistress--mistress," she began.
"There are ever so many young people who are hurt and sick and distressed
and are taken right out of life." She was gazing at them now with eyes that
were large and dark and shining.
"But we don't know them," burst out Joel Pepper, for she seemed to expect
somebody to answer.
"No, but they need you."
"Mistress--mistress," begged Gibson, hanging over her.
"And if you do the work after Lawrence doesn't need it, and he is here with
us, well and happy once more, I will see that some sick or unhappy boy gets
it."
Joel Pepper hopped out of his chair, upsetting the mucilage bottle, seeing
which, Gibson left her mistress to reach the table in time to save a
disaster.
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