"Georgie"
gether by the first train. If old Borricole's verdict did anything, it weakened her. She doesn't believe in him, you see—at least, not as a phrenologist. He examined me when I was a youngster, and told her I should grow up a dreamy, thoughtful scholar: sort of Miss Nancy, don't you know. My mother was furious, and now she always believes the exact opposite of what he tells her—of people's characters."
"You say the boy is ill?"
Georgie's face lengthened.
"Borricole noticed how flushed he was, and pulled his mouth open, as if he'd been a puppy or a horse. Said his tonsils and larynx were inflamed. I don't suppose he knows anything about it, but old Taffy bit at him like a good 'un. Made him yell, I can tell you. Borricole said he was a little devil—told my mother he was sickening for something catching, and fled the scene. We've sent for the doctor, but he hasn't come yet, and I thought I'd come round and tell you to keep away. I
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