"Oh, she's alive--she's alive!" and Clover put her arms round Katy's
neck and sobbed.
"Hush, dear!" Aunt Izzie's voice sounded unusually gentle. "You've had a
bad tumble, Katy. Don't you recollect?"
"A tumble? Oh, yes--out of the swing," said Katy, as it all came
slowly back to her. "Did the rope break, Aunt Izzie? I can't remember
about it."
"No, Katy, not the rope. The staple drew out of the roof. It was a
cracked one, and not safe. Don't you recollect my telling you not to
swing to-day? Did you forget?"
"No, Aunt Izzie--I didn't forget. I--" but here Katy broke down. She
closed her eyes, and big tears rolled from under the lids.
"Don't cry," whispered Clover, crying herself, "please don't. Aunt Izzie
isn't going to scold you." But Katy was too weak and shaken not to cry.
"I think I'd like to go up stairs and lie on the bed," she said. But
when she tried to get off the sofa, everything swam before her, and she
fell back again on the pillow.
"Why, I can't stand up!" she gasped, looking very much frightened.
"I'm afraid you've given yourself a sprain somewhere," said Aunt Izzie,
who looked rather frightened herself. "You'd better lie still a while,
dear, before you try to move.
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