"Did he get it bein' a pirate?" demanded Sammy.
"He got it fighting pirates," Tess said firmly. "But the pirates got it worse. They got their legs mowed off."
"We-ell. Huh! I guess it would be fun to have a wooden leg, at that," the boy stoutly declared. "Anyway, a feller with a wooden leg wouldn't have growin' pains in it; and I have 'em awful when I go to bed nights, in my legs."
As the little girls went on to the hospital, Dot suddenly felt some hesitancy about going, after all. "You know, Tess, they do such awful things to folks in horsepistols!"
"For pity's sake! stop calling it that," begged Tess. "And they don't do awful things in hospitals."
"Yes they do; they take off folkses legs and arms and pull their teeth and——"
"They don't!" denied Tess, flatly. "Not in this hospital, anyway. Here, they cure sick ladies and little children that are lame and sick. Oh! it's a be-a-utiful place!"
"How do you know?" asked Dot, doubtfully.
"Sadie Goronofsky's cousin was there," Tess said, with confidence. "Sadie went to see her—and she had jelly and oranges and farina puddings and all kinds of nice things to eat. Sadie knows, because she let her lick the tumblers and dishes. Besides, we're not going to be patients there," Tess declared. "We're only calling on Mrs. Eland."
"I hope she has some of that nice farina pudding for tea," sighed Dot. "I'm fond of that."