298 THE LAND OF PLUCK

4

Soon the surgeon arrived. After he had been with her for
nearly an hour, set and bandaged the poor little arm, which
was broken in two places, and with his assistant attended
to her dreadful wounds and bruises, we were told that Gerty
had opened her eyes and asked faintly for a drink of water.
A messenger had gone on horseback to summon Father
and Mother. He crossed the ferry to Long Island, and
then, lashing his horse, never halted until he reached
the farm-house where they were visiting. The horse bore
him nobly, but fell dead a few moments after reaching the
house. Gerty did not know Father and Mother when they
caine. She did not notice anything, but she was living, and
that was more than they had dared hope for.

It was a terrible time. For weeks their little one hovered
between life and death; but their prayers were answered.
In course of time she grew stronger; new color bloomed
in her cheek, and her pattering feet once more made music
for the household. She lived, a bright, playful child, and
not an invalid or cripple, as all had feared she would be;
but never again did either Marie or I, while thinking upon
all that happened on that sad June morning, dare say in
our hearts, “It was only a rose.”