lad to do so. They have to damn so many hopes in a
day's work, these Accident Warders!

"It's no use asking us," said they, somehow conjointly. "There's not a
surgeon in all England that could tell you whether it will be life or
death. _We_ can only say the patient is making a good fight for it."
They seemed very much interested in the case, though, and in the queer
old broken-hearted giant that sobbed over the half-killed baby that
could not hear nor answer, speak to it as he might.

"What did you say your name was?" said the Senior Surgeon to Uncle
Moses.

"Moses Wardle of Hanley, called the Linnet. Ye see, I was a Member of
the Prize Ring, many years. Fighting Man, you might say."

"I had an idea I knew the name, too. When I was a youngster thirty odd
years ago I took an interest in that sort of thing. You fought Bob
Brettle, and the umpires couldn't agree."

"That was it, master. Well, I had many a turn up--turn up and turn down,
either way as might be. But I had a good name. I never sold a backer. I
did my best by them that put their money on me." For the moneychanger,
the wagermonger, creeps in and degrades the noble science of damaging
one's fellow-man effectively; even as in old years he brought discredit
on cock-fighting, in which at least--you cannot deny it--the bird cuts a
better figure than he does in his native farmyard.

"Come round after twelve to-morrow, and we may know more," said the
House-Surgeon. "It's not regular--but ask for me." And then the older
Surgeon shook Uncle Moses by the hand, quite respectful-like--so Mr.
Jerry said to Aunt M'riar later--and the two went back, sad and
discouraged, to Sapps Court.

What made it all harder to bear was the difficulty of dealing with
Dolly. Dolly knew, of course, that Dave had been took to the
Horsetickle--that was the nearest she could get to the word, after
frequent repetitions--and that he was to be made well, humanly speaking,
past a doubt. The little maid had to be content with assurances to this
effect, inserting into the treaty a stipulation as to time.

"Dave's doin' to tum home after dinner," said she, when that meal seemed
near at hand. And Uncle Moses never had the heart to say no.

Then when no Dave had come, and Dolly had wept for him in vain, and a
cloth laid announced supper, Dolly said--moved only by that landmark of
passing time--"Dave _is_ a-doin' to tum home after supper; he _is_
a-doin', Uncle Mo, he _is_ a-doin'!" And what cou