“Oh, I have troubles of my own.”
“All the more reason for being merry. How do you expect to get the better of your troubles if you don’t have fun with them?”
Roger looked at her with a little more interest.
“The trouble that’s bothering me hasn’t come yet,” he said; “it’s only an anticipation now.”
“Then perhaps it never will come, and you might as well be merry and take your chances.”
“No, it’s bound to come, and there’s nothing merry about it; it’s just horrid!”
“Won’t you tell me what it is?” said Patty, gently, seeing that the boy was very much in earnest.
“Would you really like to know?”
“Yes, indeed; perhaps I could help you.”
Roger smiled. “No,” he said, “you can’t help me; nobody can help me. It’s only this; I’ve got to have my arm broken.”