“Oh dear me!” said Phonny. “Oh, go and call my mother. Oh dear me!”
Dorothy began to pull off Phonny’s boot, while Stuyvesant went to call Phonny’s mother. Mrs. Henry was very much alarmed, when she heard that Phonny had cut himself. She hurried out to him, and seemed to be in great distress and anxiety. She kneeled down before him, while Dorothy held him in her lap, and examined the foot. The cut was a pretty bad one, just above the ankle.
“It is a very bad place for a cut,” said she. “Bring me some water.”
“I’ll get some,” said Stuyvesant.
So Stuyvesant went and got a bowl from a shelf in the kitchen, and poured some water into it, and brought it to Mrs. Henry. Mrs. Henry bathed the wound with the water, and then closing it up as completely as possible, and putting a piece of sticking-plaster across to keep the parts in place, she bound the ankle up with a bandage.
By this time Phonny had become quiet. His mother, when she had finished bandaging the ankle, brought another stocking and put it on, to keep the bandage in its place.
“There!” said she, “that will do. Now the first thing is to get him into the other room.”
So Dorothy carried Phonny in, and laid him down upon the sofa in the great sitting-room.
That evening when Beechnut went to the village to get the letters at the post-office, he stopped at the doctor’s on his way, to ask the doctor to call that evening or in the morning at Mrs. Henry’s. The doctor came that evening.