e interesting invalids on the sled, while the
boys came behind like a guard of honor, leaving the hill deserted by
all but Joe, who had returned to hover about the fatal fence, and poor
"Thunderbolt," split asunder, lying on the bank to mark the spot where
the great catastrophe occurred.

Chapter II. Two Penitents

Jack and Jill never cared to say much about the night which followed
the first coasting party of the season, for it was the saddest and the
hardest their short lives had ever known. Jack suffered most in body;
for the setting of the broken leg was such a painful job, that it wrung
several sharp cries from him, and made Frank, who helped, quite weak
and white with sympathy, when it was over. The wounded head ached
dreadfully, and the poor boy felt as if bruised all over, for he had the
worst of the fall. Dr. Whiting spoke cheerfully of the case, and made so
light of broken legs, that Jack innocently asked if he should not be up
in a week or so.

"Well, no; it usually takes twenty-one days for bones to knit, and young
ones make quick work of it," answered the doctor, with a last scientific
tuck to the various bandages, which made Jack feel like a hapless
chicken trussed for the spit.

"Twenty-one days! Three whole weeks in bed! I shouldn't call that quick
work," groaned the dismayed patient, whose experience of illness had
been limited.

"It is a forty days' job, young man, and you must make up your mind to
bear it like a hero. We will do our best; but next time, look before
you leap, and save your bones. Good-night; you'll feel better in the
morning. No jigs, remember;" and off went the busy doctor for another
look at Jill, who had been ordered to bed and left to rest till the
other case was attended to.

Any one would have thought Jack's plight much the worse, but the
doctor looked more sober over Jill's hurt back than the boy's compound
fractures; and the poor little girl had a very bad quarter of an hour
while he was trying to discover the extent of the injury.

"Keep her quiet, and time will show how much damage is done," was all
he said in her hearing; but if she had known that he told Mrs. Pecq he
feared serious consequences, she would not have wondered why her mother
cried as she rubbed the numb limbs and placed the pillows so tenderly.

Jill suffered most in her mind; for only a sharp stab of pain now and
then reminded her of her body; but her remorseful little soul gave her
no peace