Belle had been sitting, watching the patient, but at this outburst of remonstrance she laughed and left her post. “I’ll find Mother now, and tell her you’ve come in. I think Bob is all right, anyway.”
“Course I am. Who said I wasn’t?”
“Your ‘chum,’ Mr. Dolloway.”
“H’m-m! What’d he say?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Oh, yes, I do, too. He said ‘roofs,’ ‘cisterns,’ ‘bangs,’ ‘blacks and blues,’ etc. What did he mean?”
“Nothin’. Only I slid offen the roof into the cistern. Nen he an’ my mother come an’ made a dretful time. They said I was ’bout killed, but I wasn’t. An’ my mother she sent Roland off fer a doctor-man, ’cause she’s boun’ I’ve broke some o’ my insides. She says a feller couldn’t jest slide that little bit ’ithout hurtin’ hisself somehow. It wasn’t no use I tellin’ her. Roland went quick as lightnin’. Nen the carpenter an’ mortar man they went away to get some more stuff to fix the thing up so’s I can’t slide in no more; an’ that’s all.”
“All! Robert, you certainly will scare my mother to death with your behavior, even if you don’t get killed yourself. And if you’re not hurt, why are you lying here wrapped up this fashion?”
“’Cause my mother made me. What’s more, she took my clothes away, an’ says they’ve got to be washed an’ I’ll have ter lie still till they dry. I think it’s mean I can’t wear my Sunday ones; don’t you?”
“I think it is a wise precaution. But how in the world did you manage to slide off the roof? What were you doing up there? Tell me the whole story.”
“I wanted ter make the rooster turn round faster. He’s rusty on his hinges, Mr. Dolloway says, ’cause he, the rooster, is awful old, old as Mr. Brook maybe. An’ I got my mother’s oil-can, ’cause he said old things needs oilin’, an’ I clumb up. I was goin’ to s’prise you all, an’— It’s mean. I can climb like anything now, Bon.”