"Why?  ’Cause he was playin’ billiards an’ havin’ a good time.  That’s why.  They sent ever so many messages to him, an’ the poor chap lay there, with his laig swellin’ something cruel. Then the doctor come back at last, an’ if you’ll believe me he’d never brought a thing with him! He took them old bandages an’ rough bits of wood they’d used for splints—the things he’d taken off an’ chucked aside in the morning—an’ put ’em on the laig again: all dirty, they was, from bein’ against his ol’ workin’ pants."