“Till next time,” said the doctor, smiling.
“I won’t have any next time,” cried Carey, eagerly. “Now then, what are we going to do to-day?”
“You must be tired with your exertions yesterday.”
“No; not a bit,” cried Carey, “and going out seemed to do me so much good.”
“Very well, then, we’ll sail to the island again, and fish and collect.”
“And get some more cocoanuts. I say, I could climb one of the trees, couldn’t I? That wouldn’t hurt my shoulder.”
The doctor gave the boy a droll look.
“There, how stupid I am!” cried the boy, flushing. “I want to do things like I used to, and I keep forgetting.”
“Try not to, then, my boy. Surely your own common-sense tells you that nothing could be more injurious than the exertion of dragging yourself up a tree by your arms.”
“Of course, doctor,” said the boy, grinning. “It’s my common-sense has a bad habit of going to sleep.”