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"
Run
for
water
--
a
basinful
,
"
said
Mother
,
and
Phyllis
ran
.
She
upset
most
of
the
water
out
of
the
basin
in
her
haste
,
and
had
to
fetch
more
in
a
jug
.
Peter
did
not
open
his
eyes
again
till
Mother
had
tied
her
handkerchief
round
his
foot
,
and
she
and
Bobbie
had
carried
him
in
and
laid
him
on
the
brown
wooden
settle
in
the
dining-room
.
By
this
time
Phyllis
was
halfway
to
the
Doctor
's
.
Mother
sat
by
Peter
and
bathed
his
foot
and
talked
to
him
,
and
Bobbie
went
out
and
got
tea
ready
,
and
put
on
the
kettle
.
"
It
's
all
I
can
do
,
"
she
told
herself
.
"
Oh
,
suppose
Peter
should
die
,
or
be
a
helpless
cripple
for
life
,
or
have
to
walk
with
crutches
,
or
wear
a
boot
with
a
sole
like
a
log
of
wood
!
"
She
stood
by
the
back
door
reflecting
on
these
gloomy
possibilities
,
her
eyes
fixed
on
the
water-butt
.
"
I
wish
I
'd
never
been
born
,
"
she
said
,
and
she
said
it
out
loud
.
"
Why
,
lawk
a
mercy
,
what
's
that
for
?
"
asked
a
voice
,
and
Perks
stood
before
her
with
a
wooden
trug
basket
full
of
green-leaved
things
and
soft
,
loose
earth
.
"
Oh
,
it
's
you
,
"
she
said
.
"
Peter
's
hurt
his
foot
with
a
rake
--
three
great
gaping
wounds
,
like
soldiers
get
.
And
it
was
partly
my
fault
.
"
"
That
it
was
n't
,
I
'll
go
bail
,
"
said
Perks
.
"
Doctor
seen
him
?
"
