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Peaches took
one long look at him and opened her lips. Mickey inserted the tube, set
the clock in sight, and taking both her hands he held them closely and
talked as fast as he could to keep her from using them. He had not half
finished the day when the time was up. If he had done it right, Peaches
had very little, if any, fever.
"Now turn over so I can rub your back to make it all nice and rested," he
said. "And then I'll get supper."
"I don't want my back rubbed," she protested. "My back's all right now."
"Nothing to do with going to have it rubbed," said Mickey. "It would be a
silly girl who would have a back that wouldn't walk, and then wouldn't
even try having it doctored, so that it would get better. Just try Lily,
and if it doesn't _help_, I won't do it any more."
Peaches took another long look at Mickey, questioning in nature, then
turned her back to him.
"Gosh, kid! Your back looks just like horses' going to the fertilizer
plant," he said.
"Ain't that swearin's?" asked Peaches promptly.


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