"You'd get well quicker if you'd do just as Miss Price and Dr. Dudley tell you," advised Polly.
"Huh! My mamma says nobody on earth can make me mind!" He beckoned her nearer. "Say," he chuckled, "she put an ice bag on me," with a wink towards the nurse, "and I got out some o' the ice! It's awful good! She would n't give me a drop o' water, only horrid old warm stuff." He showed his tongue, with a bit of ice upon it.
Polly was shocked. In the light of what the physician had told her, she realized that the boy was ignorantly thwarting the efforts of those who were trying to save his life. She did not know what to say."
"Do you like stories?" she finally asked.
The lad looked surprised, but answered, "Some kinds. Why?"
"I thought I'd tell you one, if you'd like me to."
"Do you know one 'bout soldiers?"
"I don't believe I do; but I know a song about a soldier."
"Can you sing?"
"Yes."