Belles on their Toes

that if she were deprived of that privilege, her recovery would be seriously retarded.
    Ernestine suggested that it might also cheer up Mother if we took her some flowers from the yard. Lilacs, Lilies-of-the-valley, and daffodils were abundant, and the boys went out to pick them. They wanted to cheer up Mother as much as possible, so they systematically stripped the yard. When they were through, the porch stairs were heaped with blooms and the lilac bushes were reduced to squat shrubs.
    Everyone's arms were full as we walked to the hospital, and we had to stop and rest on several occasions. There was more man the usual trouble filing across street intersections, because it was hard to see through our bulging bouquets. Ernestine, in addition to her bouquet, carried a suitcase containing clothes, books, the morning mail, and some office work for Mother.
    When we arrived at Mountainside, Ernestine, Martha, and Frank went in and got Mother's room number from the desk. Then Frank came out and brought the younger children in the back way, through an emergency door used by the ambulance patients. Mr. Chairman came too, although he knew he wasn't supposed to, stealthily bringing up the rear of the line on his stomach. Dan discovered him in time, and everyone waited while Dan chased him out the door.
    Single file, then, they tiptoed up the back stairs and along Mother's corridor, peering anxiously around comers to avoid doctors and the floor superintendent. Ernestine and Martha, who had gone up by the elevator, were standing outside Mother's room and gave the signal that the coast was clear.
    Ernestine entered the room. The rest of us stayed in the hall. The bottom part of Mother's face was covered with bandages, and there was a cast on her knee. But she was sitting up in bed, knitting and reading a magazine. She was in a semi-private room, with two other patients. As it turned out, the man who collided with the taxi was required to pay the hospital expenses. But Mother wasn't taking any chances, in case we had to foot the bill.
    "There you are," Mother sighed. "It seemed as if visiting hours would never begin. How is everything at home?"
    "Oh, Mother," Ern called, running to her bed. "Does it hurt much? Are you all right?"
    "Of course I am, and I'm getting a real rest. Sit down and let me look at you."
    Mother introduced Ern to the other two patients, and Ern pulled up a chair. Mother kept glancing at the door.
    "I don't suppose," she said, "that Martha or Frank came with you, did they? No, of course not. I forgot. Everybody'd be at school, wouldn't they? I know they have rules about the younger ones, but do you guess the others will come this afternoon?"
    The rest of us came in then and piled the flowers around Mother's bed. Bob and Jane started to cry when they saw the bandages. They climbed on her bed and snuggled up against her.
    "What's that for?" Mother said, kissing her hand through her bandages and placing it on each of their cheeks. "Why are you crying? Don't tell me you're jealous because I'm going to have the best-looking nose in Montclair."
    Bob said he had liked the old nose, just as it was. "That skinny old thing?" Mother said scornfully. "Huh!"
    "Does it hurt?" we asked. "You can't fool us. Does it hurt much. Mother?"
    "You can't get a handsome nose without having it hurt a little," Mother admitted. "But it will be worth it. You just wait for the unveiling."
    She said that just seeing us and smelling the flowers had made her feel better, but that she was afraid the hospital officials wouldn't like it if they found we had broken the rule about children under twelve.
    "I'd like to know how babies get born here then," Lill said. "They're under twelve."
    "And another thing," Mother told us, "you mustn't miss any more school on my account. I want you to promise me that."
    We promised. Ernestine said we'd all go to school that morning, just as soon as we left the hospital.
    "We'll need written excuses for being late," Ernestine added. "I wrote them this morning. They're in the suitcase. All you'll have to do is sign them."
    Ernestine dug in the suitcase and produced a typewritten original and seven onion-skin carbons. Mother glanced them over and signed them.
    "Thank you, dear," she told Ern gratefully. "You write the nicest excuses in the family."
    A nurse came in then, but she seemed more concerned about the flowers than about our breaking the rule for children under twelve.
    "I don't believe we have vases enough