the day, and now he had to have a change. This is called
reaction. One notices it now and then in oneself. Sometimes when one has
been extra good for a longer time than usual, one is suddenly attacked
by a violent fit of not being good at all. "I'll tell you what they do,"
said Peter; "they strap the broken man down so that he can't resist or
interfere with their doctorish designs, and then someone holds his head,
and someone holds his leg--the broken one, and pulls it till the bones
fit in--with a crunch, mind you! Then they strap it up and--let's play
at bone-setting!"

"Oh, no!" said Phyllis.

But Bobbie said suddenly: "All right--LET'S! I'll be the doctor, and
Phil can be the nurse. You can be the broken boner; we can get at your
legs more easily, because you don't wear petticoats."

"I'll get the splints and bandages," said Peter; "you get the couch of
suffering ready."

The ropes that had tied up the boxes that had come from home were all
in a wooden packing-case in the cellar. When Peter brought in a trailing
tangle of them, and two boards for splints, Phyllis was excitedly
giggling.

"Now, then," he said, and lay down on the settle, groaning most
grievously.

"Not so loud!" said Bobbie, beginning to wind the rope round him and the
settle. "You pull, Phil."

"Not so tight," moaned Peter. "You'll break my other leg."

Bobbie worked on in silence, winding more and more rope round him.

"That's enough," said Peter. "I can't move at all. Oh, my poor leg!" He
groaned again.

"SURE you can't move?" asked Bobbie, in a rather strange tone.

"Quite sure," replied Peter. "Shall we play it's bleeding freely or
not?" he asked cheerfully.

"YOU can play what you like," said Bobbie, sternly, folding her arms and
looking down at him where he lay all wound round and round with cord.
"Phil and I are going away. And we shan't untie you till you promise
never, never to talk to us about blood and wounds unless we say you may.
Come, Phil!"

"You beast!" said Peter, writhing. "I'll never promise, never. I'll
yell, and Mother will come."

"Do," said Bobbie, "and tell her why we tied you up! Come on, Phil. No,
I'm not a beast, Peter. But you wouldn't stop when we asked you and--"

"Yah," said Peter, "it wasn't even your own idea. You got it out of
Stalky!"

Bobbie and Phil, retiring in silent dignity, were met at the door by the
Doctor. He came in rubbing his hands and looking pleased with himself.

"Well," he sa