"He wants to sing," remarked Laurie, with masculine understanding of a fellow heart. "All right, old man," he encouraged. "How about that beautiful hymn I taught you at Bab's wedding?"
With considerable help Samuel recalled the ditty:
"Hey, hey, ve gangsall here,
Whalahaloo we care,
Whalahaloo we care,
Now—wow—wow—WOW—WOW!"
"Laurie!"
Sonya spoke with sudden austerity. "It's a relief from his mental strain," Laurie explained. "Any doctor will tell you that."
In the hos'tl, however, things assumed a different aspect. Still firmly holding Hullen R. J. by the leg, and keeping a steadfast eye on the surgeon, Samuel took in his immediate surroundings with a dawning suspicion in his soul. Having two men throw lights on his face and look down his throat had lost its novelty, though Sonya had assured him that wonderful views were to be seen there which he alone could reveal. Also, the men seemed hurried, and didn't want to look at Hullen R. J.'s throat, though Samuel warmly recommended this variety in the entertainment.
In short, the situation had become sinister. The smiles around him were dreadful-looking things, all except Laurie's. With an appalling howl Samuel detached himself from the surgeon's grasp and fled to Laurie, who picked him up and held him firmly and comfortably in his lap until a lady in white came with something nice for Samuel to smell.
The next thing Samuel knew was that he was in bed in a strange room. He gulped and discovered that his throat was sore. He sat up, distended his mouth for a yell, and then very slowly closed it.
From every corner of the room familiar figures were hastening to his side. The lady in white, Sonya, and his mother all reached him at the same moment. On the pillow beside him Hullen R. J. awaited the honor of his attention like a perfect lady. No howls from her, as Sonya immediately pointed out. As she thus soothed, Sonya was kissing him. The lady in white was offering him something pleasant to drink. His mother was patting his back.