In a Quiet Village

by S. Baring-Gould

“Yes, I do,” said the sick child, striving to lift herself and extend a hand to the young gardener.

“But, gracious me, Tom!” exclaimed Mary, “whatever is the meaning o’ that?” pointing to the white band round his arm. “It is like what folks put on now when in mourning—only it’s white.”

“He’s going to be married,” said the sick child.

“It is only that stiff collar; I couldn’t abear it no longer!” explained Tom.

Then the child laughed, and laughed till she coughed.

Suddenly Mary uttered a cry—Tom saw a crimson stream.

“Run, run, Tom! For Heaven’s sake run for the doctor!”

And Tom ran.

In half-an-hour he returned.