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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Kin you hold back when the brichin' breaks? Kin you stop fer orders when your nigh hind leg's over your trace an' ye feel good of a frosty mornin'?" said Nip, who had only learned that trick last winter, and thought it was the crown of horsely knowledge. "What's the use o' talk in'?" said Tedda Gabler, scornfully. "What kin ye do?"
Me, an old woodman, that'd ought to have some sense. An' Eunice! Why, 'twould scare Eunice out of a year's growth to see me fetched home 'stead of walkin' there on my own pins. Half a loaf's better'n no loaf, an' one leg's better'n none. As for my plaguey old ribs they can take care themselves. But once we get there you just clip it to the doctor's an' have him come 'round an' patch me up.
Yet Barker's surgical rage was disarmed, the patient was so forlorn over his doctor's professional chagrin. "I suppose it ain't no better this morning, Doc?" he had said, humbly, after a new week of bed and weights. "Your right leg's going to be shorter. That's all." "Oh, gosh! I've been and spoiled your comminuted fee-mur! Ain't I a son-of-a-gun?"
Such was Sam's desperate state of mind that he went straight up to the group. "I want Dr. Turnbull," he said. "There he is before you," replied a sharp-faced young doctor, pointing to a benevolent looking old gentleman. "Dr. Turnbull, there's a young feller hurt dreadful out our way. His leg's broke. Guess he's hurt inside too. And he's a stranger. His folks are all in Scotland.
"My leg's been like that, m'm, fifteen year come Michaelmas." "How did it happen?" "Ploughin'. The bone was injured; an' now they say the muscle's dried up in a manner of speakin'." "What do you do for it? The very best thing is this." From the recesses of a deep pocket, placed where no one else wore such a thing, she brought out a little pot. "You must let me give it you.
The third seated himself beside the driver. 'Buck's leg's broke, he announced. 'Hell! said the chauffeur. No young actor, receiving his first round of applause, could have felt a keener thrill of gratification than I did at those words. Life may have nobler triumphs than the breaking of a kidnapper's leg, but I did not think so then. It was with an effort that I stopped myself from cheering.
"Squeaky," said Flukey, "that's what the man called out." "Aw, that ain't nice enough for me! I'll call him Prince, and ye call him Squeaky Prince Squeaky," she ended, knotting the cord Flukey had given her about the short hind leg of the animal. "And we be rich," she declared later, "'most five dollars, a pig, and Snatchet, and yer leg's well. It don't hurt a bit, do it?"
"Say," said the youth, "do you consider that's any way to talk about a good horse?" "Any dude could see the leg's sprung," said Balaam. But he looked at Pedro's shoulder, which was well laid back; and he admired his points, dark in contrast with the buckskin, and also the width between the eyes. "Now you know," whined Shorty, "that it ain't sprung any more than your leg's cork.
The leg's no set that ill, but I'm suspecting trouble inside o' ye. With good guidance ye should get over it. Lay him gently yonder while I slip on a better lashing."
Everything augured for a successful night of sport. "What'll we do?" "Let's go outside where there's room," Sid suggested. "My leg's gone to sleep." "Now," said John a few minutes later, as the five boys stretched themselves out on the soft grass beside the shack, "there's the garbage cans on the flats' back porches. They're never, taken in on Halloween." Silvey nodded.
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