“To whimper is to cry or complain—or be sorry for yourself.”
Jim studied over that; then coming close to Laura, he looked straight into her eyes. “You mean that I mustn’t talk about that?” He touched his lame leg.
“It would be better not, if you can help it,” she said very gently.
“I got to help it then, ’cause, of course, I’ve got to be brave. And mebbe if I get strong as—as anything, they’ll let me join the Scouts when I’m twelve even—even if I ain’t quite such a good walker as the rest of ’em. Don’t you think they might, Miss Laura?”
“Yes, Jim, I think they might,” she agreed hastily. Who could say “No” to such pleading eyes?
Jim had been teasing to go to school, and when at the next Camp Fire meeting, Lena Barton told him that Jo had been sent to an outdoor school, Jim wanted to go there too.
“Take him to the doctor and see what he thinks about it,” the judge advised, and to Jim’s delight the doctor said that it was just the place for him.
“Let him sleep out of doors too for a year,” the doctor added. “It will do him a world of good.”
So the next day Miss Laura went with him to the school, Jim limping gaily along at her side, and chuckling to himself as he thought how “s’prised” Jo would be to see him there.
Jo undoubtedly was surprised. He was a thin little chap, freckled and red-haired like his sister, and he welcomed his old comrade with a wide friendly grin.