Judith laughed to herself under her breath. The twin stars in her eyes shone even a little brighter.
“The fairy’s a great doctor—he’s across there, ’way, ’way out of sight. He’s going to wave his wand over Blossom. He waved it over another little broken girl, and she walked. I saw her. She said, ‘See me!’—I heard her. That’s what the money is going to do, Jemmy.”
“Gee!” breathed Jemmy softly. It was his way of making poetry.
“And you see, I don’t dare to wait—I’m afraid something might happen to that doctor.”
“O’ course!—you go down there all flyin’ an’ see that woman, Jude.”
And that afternoon Judith went. It was to Mrs. Ben she went first; she felt acquainted with Mrs. Ben.
“Can I see—I’d like to see that mother whose little girl can walk,” Judith said eagerly.
“Land!” ejaculated Mrs. Ben.
“I mean,” explained Judith, smiling, “whose little girl was lame and a doctor made her walk by waving his wa—I mean by—by curing her. I heard her telling another mother. I’d like to see—do you suppose I could see that lady?”
“I guess I know who you mean—there ain’t been but one little girl here lately,” Mrs. Ben said. “But there ain’t any now. They’ve gone away.”