`` Peter caught them at Markdale , the last time he was home , his mother says . '' `` I do n't want to catch the measles from Peter , '' said Felicity decidedly . `` Fancy catching them from a hired boy ! '' `` Oh , Felicity , do n't call Peter a hired boy when he 's sick , '' protested Cecily . During the next two days we were very busy -- too busy to tell tales or listen to them . Only in the frosty dusk did we have time to wander afar in realms of gold with the Story Girl . She had recently been digging into a couple of old volumes of classic myths and northland folklore which she had found in Aunt Olivia 's attic ; and for us , god and goddess , laughing nymph and mocking satyr , norn and valkyrie , elf and troll , and `` green folk '' generally , were real creatures once again , inhabiting the orchards and woods and meadows around us , until it seemed as if the Golden Age had returned to earth . Then , on the third day , the Story Girl came to us with a very white face . She had been over to Uncle Roger 's yard to hear the latest bulletin from the sick room . Hitherto they had been of a non-committal nature ; but now it was only too evident that she had bad news . `` Peter is very , very sick , '' she said miserably . `` He has caught cold someway -- and the measles have struck in -- and -- and -- '' the Story Girl wrung her brown hands together -- `` the doctor is afraid he -- he -- wo n't get better . '' We all stood around , stricken , incredulous . `` Do you mean , '' said Felix , finding voice at length , `` that Peter is going to die ? '' The Story Girl nodded miserably . `` They 're afraid so . '' Cecily sat down by her half filled basket and began to cry . Felicity said violently that she did n't believe it . `` I ca n't pick another apple to-day and I ai n't going to try , '' said Dan . None of us could .
We went XXXXX the grown-ups and told them so ; and the grown-ups , with unaccustomed understanding and sympathy , told us that we need not .
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