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"We'll 'ave a look at it without waking 'im. You take that side, Peter! Mind you don't disturb 'im." He put his 'and in under the bed-clo'es and felt all up and down Sam's back, very careful. Sam stood it for 'arf a minute, and then 'e sat up in bed and behaved more like a windmill than a man. "Hold his 'ands," ses Ginger. "Hold 'em yourself," ses Peter, dabbing 'is nose with his shirt-sleeve.
"I'm dying, Peter," ses Sam, and 'e rolled over and buried his face in the bed-clo'es and kicked. Peter Russet, who was a bit scared, sat up in bed and called for Ginger, and arter he 'ad called pretty near a dozen times Ginger 'arf woke up and asked 'im wot was the matter. "Poor old Sam's dying," ses Peter. "I know," ses Ginger, laying down and cuddling into the piller agin. "He told me just now.
Twice he made the boy go in to hurry them up, and all the notice they took was to go on at the boy for leaving the horse. Pore old Sam sat there hugging 'imself in the bed-clo'es, and getting wilder and wilder. He couldn't get out of the cab, and 'e couldn't call to them for fear of people coming up and staring at 'im.
"We'll 'ave a look at it without waking 'im. You take that side, Peter! Mind you don't disturb 'im." He put his 'and in under the bed-clo'es and felt all up and down Sam's back, very careful. Sam stood it for 'arf a minute, and then 'e sat up in bed and behaved more like a windmill than a man. "Hold his 'ands," ses Ginger. "Hold 'em yourself," ses Peter, dabbing 'is nose with his shirt-sleeve.
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