THE REAL CROSS NURSES
“COME,” she added, “this excitement will never do for Mr. Brave.
Everybody leave the room, and everybody go to bed and take a nap.”
“I don’t want to,” began Ibee. “I want—” but at that moment, Miss
Bossem, who was passing, came into the room.
“Why, what does this mean?” she asked crisply, gazing around. “How does
it happen, Miss Helpem, that all these people are in the invalid’s
room? Everyone who comes in must have permission.”
“Well, I am surprised!” exclaimed Mrs. Brave. “As though I’d have to
ask permission!”
“Well,” replied Miss Bossem, in a very decided manner, “everybody who
stays in this hospital must obey the rules. Miss Helpem, will you
kindly see that the children are put to bed, and I will take Mrs. Brave
to her room.”
“I’m no child,” began Mrs. Brave, “I’m an older woman than you, and
I’ve had——”
“Do you intend to risk your husband’s life any further?” asked Miss
Bossem, lifting her eyebrows and speaking in a low, icy tone.
“Poor wife—” began Mr. Brave.
“See!” said Miss Bossem. “He’s already too excited to rest tonight
without some medicine.”
“Oh, dear,” whispered Mrs. Brave, “I’m so sorry!” Then aloud: “Miss
Nurse, I’m real tired. I think I need a nap. Good-bye, dear, I’m going
to my room—you take a nap, too.”
“Well,” said Miss Bossem to Miss Helpem, “I did succeed in making Mrs.
Brave see how dangerous it was to excite the patient, but my, I don’t
like to be so cross!”
[Illustration: “WHY, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?”]
“I just had to be firm with the children, too,” replied the assistant
nurse. “But Shesa’s a dear, and has extraordinary good sense. She is
going to form a class in Red Cross first-aid work.”
“Yes, and we’ll give the instructions,” said Miss Bossem; “that is, if
you are willing.”
“Of course,” answered Miss Helpem, “but what I meant to tell you is
that Miss Shesa is going to form a class for children.”
“What a lovely idea!” exclaimed Miss Bossem, passing on into the clinic.
* * * * *
“Doctor, I’m getting quite tired of being here,” complained little Ibee
to Doctor Surecure, when he met him in the corridor one day about three
weeks later. “Of course it’s dandy to see so many banged-up people, but
I’m nearly well. My arm aches only on rainy days, and I can wiggle my
fingers fine.”
[Illustration: “CAN’T I GO, TOO, DOCTOR?”]
“Good,” smiled the doctor. “I’m thinking myself that we’ll be parting
with some of the Brave family soon. Your mother and sisters are to
leave us Saturday.”
“Can’t I go, too, Doctor? Can’t I?” begged the little boy.
“Why, that’s a pretty way to talk,” replied the doctor. “Don’t you like
us?”
“Oh, sure,” said Ibee, “but the fellows miss me a lot, you know.”
“Why, what will your poor father do without any of you?” teased Doctor
Quickenquack, who happened to be passing.
“Oh, I’ll come see him every day,” said Ibee. “He’ll love to hear all
about home. Can’t I go?”
“We’ll think it over,” said Doctor Quickenquack.
“And if we do decide to let you go,” added Doctor Surecure, “you must
promise not to try to take off your bandage.”
“Oh, I promise,” said Ibee. “Doctor Quickenquack said that if I let
my arm be in it long enough, I’d be able to play baseball again: and
besides, I want to show it to the fellows.”
“But you’ll not pitch ball for some time to come, young man,” laughed
the doctor.
So Mrs. Brave and the children were soon in their own home, leaving
poor Mr. Brave in the hospital. By the time Mr. Brave was able to
return, walking with a crutch, they had formed three first-aid classes.
Mrs. Brave’s was for grown-up ladies, and of this Shesa was a member.
Shesa herself, with Soami and Ibee’s help, had formed two others; one
for Boy Scouts, and one for Camp Fire Girls.