"There's something gone wrong in my knee."
"Try," said his father, again frightened. Mark had never shown himself whimsical.
He obeyed and rose, but with a little cry dropped on the ground. He had somehow injured his knee that he could not walk a step.
His father stooped to lift him.
"I'll carry you, Markie," he said.
"Oh, no, no, you must not, papa! It will tire you! Set me on that stone, and send Jacob. He carries a sack of meal, and I'm not so heavy as a sack of meal."
His father was already walking homeward with him. The next moment Mark spied the waving of a dress.
"Oh," he cried, "there's Hessie! She will carry me!"
"You little goose!" said his father tenderly, "can she carry you better than I can?"
"She is not stronger than you, papa, because you are a big man; but I think Hessie has more carry in her. She has such strong arms!"