“Too sore.”
“Oh, Komazawa!”
Her eyes were beginning to fill. He thrust his two feet out quickly.
“No, no; they are all right.”
Her face was aglow again in an instant.
“Oh, I love you, my Koma,” she said. “I only pretend hurt your honorable foots.”
“That’s right. Now, you fix your hands so.” He illustrated, doubling his own hands into fists, then doubling hers also.
“That’s right. Make hand good and hard. So! Now you hit hard against those feet. So!”
He brought her little, closed fist down hard with his own hand on his offending foot. The little girl became pale. Her lips quivered. She began to sob.
Koma lifted her in his arms, jumped her on his shoulder, and carried her down to the beach, soothing her as he walked.