"Nice mother! I don't mind being hurt when you are here to fix me up."
"Tell me what happened, dear," said her mother, as she stroked the fair hair.
"We were playing," Jean said. "The boys had sticks and we heard a queer rustle in the bushes. Sandy said it was a snake and beat the bushes to drive him out. It ran out just in front of Fergus and I thought it would bite him, and I didn't want anything to happen to my brother so I ran up behind him just as he swung his stick over his shoulder to hit the snake. He hit me in the mouth, but of course he didn't mean to, Mother. I screamed because it hurt me so, and then I tried not to cry because I knew it would worry you. It doesn't hurt so badly now, Mother."
"I'm sorry it hurts at all, darling," her mother held her close. "You were a good child and brave not to cry. Crawl up in the hammock now and take a nap, and you will feel better when you wake up."
"I hope Fergus and Sandy won't do anything very interesting while I am asleep," the little girl murmured drowsily, as she dropped off to sleep.
Fergus and Sandy undoubtedly would. They were very kind to Jean, but there was no doubt that they found the little girl a clog upon their movements. Fergus was used to taking care of her, but Sandy had no sisters and he sometimes wished the little cousin would not tag quite so much.
"You can't really do anything much when a girl is tagging around," he said to his mother, but that long-suffering woman proved strangely unsympathetic.
"I think I shall keep Jean always if her being here keeps you out of mischief," she said with a smile, and Sandy answered,
"Well, keep Fergus too, then."