I never hear o' no
real foot on a false leg, 'n' 'f I was you, I certainly wouldn't want
to lay wonderin' 'f I still had two legs f'r six weeks."
"Six weeks!" cried Mrs. Lathrop, with a start that collapsed at once
into a groan; "must I lay--"
"Gran'ma Mullins says," pursued Susan, "'t the reason she knows so
much about it all is 't she had a cousin with a broken leg once. It
wa'n't no cow 's kicked him, jus' he was give to meditatin', 'n' while
meditatin' durin' house-cleanin' he stepped down the wrong side o' the
step-ladder. She says the doctor didn't so much 's dream o' plasterin'
him up, he put splints on him, 'n' he come out fine, but she says he
was suthin' jus' awful to take care of. They thought they couldn't
stand it the first weeks he was so terrible cross, but then his bones
begin to knit, 'n' she says she hopes she may fall dead then 'n' there
'f she ever hear anythin' to equal that leg-knittin'. She said they
was livin' so far out 't they could feel to leave him 'n' go to church
Sunday, 'n' she says when they was comin' back they could hear him
knittin' a good half-mile away."
"Dear, dear--" commented Mrs. Lathrop, giving a heave of unrest.
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