166 See, TROTTYS WEDDING TOUR.

were odd little eyes; set back far in his head, black as jet,
and as restless as a star behind a cloud on a windy night.
When they looked at me they snapped. Jake had an odd
mouth, too, twisted like a cable-rope.

“Very well,” said I, when Jake and I had looked at each
other. “ Where’s that hand? Hold it out, Jake.

Jake held it out.

All the “ marm”’ in me had the heartache at sight of that
hand. It was such a little hand to put knives and forceps
into, without so much as saying, “ Poor fellow!” But Jake
and I had understood each other, when I looked into his lit-
tle snapping eyes. He wanted to be doctored, not to be
“marmed.”’ The less fuss the better, for Jake. I might
as well throw scalding water at his hand as to say, “ Poor
Jake!” He was quite contented with ‘“ Hold it out!”

So he held out the little grimy, bloody hand. I put in the
probe; Jake shut his snapping eyes. I took it out; Jake
shut his twisted mouth. I laid the hand down gently.

“ Well?” said Jake, with his eyes still shut.

“¢ You ’ve done a bad thing by that middle finger, I suppose
you know, Jake.”

« Wrenched her right off.” Jake nodded. ‘JI should ha’
lost my arm, if I had n’t. She jest twisted off, and snapped.
Bob Smart picked it up. I seen him.”

“ But you see,” said the doctor, “ you have n’t broken it at
the joint. I must amputate the finger at the second joint.”

Jake nodded again.