"What you s'pose is the matter of me, Mother?" asked the boy.
"Well," said Mother, as she smoothed his pillow, "perhaps you caught cold in the woods to-day."
But it was worse than that. When the Doctor came in the morning, and looked at the boy, and gently felt of his neck (even which gentle touch made the boy want to cry) the Doctor said:
"Hum! Mumps!"
"Did you say 'bumps,' Doctor?" asked the boy's mother. "Did he fall down and bump himself?"
"No, I said mumps!" exclaimed the doctor. "That's a swelling inside his neck, and it will hurt him a lot. But if you keep him in bed, and warm, and give him easy things to eat, he'll soon be all right again."
"Poor boy!" murmured Mother. "Well, I suppose mumps are better than bumps!"
"I'm not so sure about that," spoke the Doctor as he walked to the door with the boy's mother. "Whatever you do," he said in a whisper, "don't give him anything sour—such as lemons or pickles. Sour things make the mumps pain more than ever. Don't even speak of vinegar in front of him, or so much as whisper it!"
"I won't," promised Mother.
But the boy's little sister overheard what Doctor and Mother were saying, and, being a mischievous sort of girl, she decided to have some fun. At least she called it fun.