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"
"She must have her chance," said Leslie. "I was thinking of her to-day.
I'll go to see her at once and bring her here. I will get the best surgeon
in Multiopolis to examine her and a nurse if need be; then Mickey can come
out with you."
"Would you really, Leslie?" asked Douglas.
"But why not?" cried she. "That's one of the things worth while in the
world."
"I'd love to go halvers with you," proposed Douglas. "Let's do it! When
will you go to see her?"
"In a few days," said Leslie. "The last one was, 'Could you get any idea
of what is the trouble?'"
"Very little," said Douglas. "She can sit up and move her hands. He is
teaching her to read and write. She had her lesson very creditably copied
out on her slate. She practises in his absence on poems Mickey makes."
"Poems?"
"Doggerel," explained Douglas. "Four lines at a time. Some of it is
pathetic, some of it is witty, some of it presages possibilities. He may
make a poet. She requires a verse each evening, so he recites it, then
writes it out, and she uses it for copy the next day.


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