"He said you might have lockjaw."
"Is that bad?" asked Poppy gravely.
"Oh, aint it, though! Your mouth shuts up, and you can't open it; and you have fits and die."
"Always?" said Poppy, looking scared, and feeling of herr mouth.
"'Most always, I guess. That's why your ma cried, and Nelly keeps kissin' you."
Cy felt sorry, but rather enjoyed the excitement, and was sure, that, if any one ever could escape dying, it would be Poppy, for she always "came alive" again after her worst mishaps. She looked very solemn for a few minutes, and kept opening and shutting her mouth to see if it wasn't stiff, Presently she said, in a serious tone and with a pensive air,—
"Nelly, I'll give you my bead-ring: I shan't want it any more. And Cy may have the little horse: he lost his tail; but I put on the lamb's tail, and he is as good as ever. I wish to give away my things 'fore I die; and, Nelly, won't you bring me the scissors?"
"What for?" said Nelly, sniffing more than ever.
"To cut off my hair for mamma. She'll want it, and I like to cut things."
Nelly got the scissors; and Poppy cut away all she could reach, giving directions about her property while she snipped.
"I wish papa to have my pictures and my piece of poetry I made. Give baby my dolly and the quacking duck. Tell Billy, if he wants my collection of bright buttons, he can have 'em; and give Hattie the yellow plaster dog, with my love."
Here mamma came in with a poultice, and couldn't
