LITMIR.BIZ

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interest, Mrs. Gaston. It is bad enough when it comes in the natural way. But what can I do for you?"

      "I think I must have a cent's worth of coffee this morning. My head aches so that I am almost blind. A strong cup of coffee I am sure will do me good. And as I have a hard day's work before me, I must prepare for it. And then I must have a pint of milk and a three-cent loaf of bread for the children. That must do me for the present. We have some molasses left."

      "You'll want a little dried meat, or a herring, or something to give you a relish, Mrs. Gaston. Dry bread is poor eating. And you know you can't touch molasses." Half in sympathy did Mrs. Grubb utter this, and half as a dealer, desirous of selling her goods.

      "Nothing more just now, I believe," the poor woman replied. "I must be prudent, you know, and count over every cent."

      "But you'll make yourself sick, if you don't eat something more than you do. So come now; treat yourself to a herring, or to a penny's worth of this sweet butter. You'll feel all the better for it, and do more than enough work to pay the cost twice over."

      Mrs. Gaston's appetite was tempted. The hard fresh butter looked inviting to her eyes, and she stooped over and smelled it half involuntarily.

      "I believe you are right, Mrs. Grubb," she said. "You may give me a couple of cents' worth of this nice butter."

      An ounce of butter was carefully weighed out, and given to the customer.

      "Isn't there something else, now, that you want?" said the smiling shopkeeper, leaning her elbows upon the counter, and looking encouragingly into the face of Mrs. Gaston.

      "I've indulged myself, and I shall not feel right, unless I indulge the children a little also," was the reply; "so weigh me two cents' worth of your smoked beef. They all like it very much."

      The smoked beef was soon ready, and then the mother hurried home to her children.

      After the morning meal had been prepared, Mrs. Gaston sat down and ate her bread and butter, tasting a little of the children's meat, and drinking her coffee with a keen relish. She felt braced up on rising from the table, and, but for the illness of Ella, would have felt an unusual degree of cheerfulness.

      Henry attended the common school of the district, and, soon after breakfast, prepared himself to go. As he was leaving, his mother told him to call at Doctor R—'s, and ask him if he would be kind enough to stop and see Ella. She then seated herself once more beside her little work-table. The two foreparts of the jacket had been finished, except the button-holes; and the sleeves were ready to put in as soon as the body of the garment was ready for them. As the button-holes tried the sight of Mrs. Gaston severely, she chose that part of the day, when her eyes were fresh, to work them. The jacket was double-breasted, and there were five holes to be worked on each side. She had nearly completed one-half of them, when Doctor R—came in. He looked serious upon examining his patient. Said she was very ill, and required immediate attention.

      "But you don't think it the scarlet fever, doctor?" the mother said, in a low, alarmed voice.

      "Your child is very sick, madam; and, to tell you the truth, her symptoms resemble too closely those of the fever you have named," was the undisguised reply.

      "Surely, my cup is full and running over!" sobbed Mrs. Gaston, clasping her hands together as this sudden announcement broke down, for a moment, her self-control, while the tears gushed from her eyes.

      Doctor R—was a man of true feeling. He had attended, in two or three cases of illness, the children of Mrs. Gaston, and had observed that she was a woman who had become, from some cause, greatly reduced in circumstances. His sympathies were strongly awakened at seeing her emotion, and he said, in a kind but firm voice:

      "A mother, the safety of whose child depends upon her calm and intelligent performance of duty, should never lose her self-control."

      "I know that, doctor," the mother answered, rallying herself with a strong effort. "But I was over-tried already, and your sudden confirmation of my worst fears completely broke me down."

      "In any event, however," the doctor replied, "you must not permit yourself to forget that your child is in the hands of Him who regards its good in a far higher sense than you can possibly. He never permits sickness of any kind without a good end."

      "I know that, doctor, but I have a mother's heart. I love my children, and the thought of losing them touches me to the quick."

      "And yet you know that, in passing from this to another state of existence, their condition must be bettered beyond comparison."

      "Oh, yes. Beyond comparison!" replied the mother, half abstractedly, but with touching pathos. "And yet, doctor, I cannot spare them. They are every thing to me."

      "Do not suffer yourself to indulge needless alarm. I will leave you medicine now, and call again to-morrow. If she should be decidedly worse, send for me toward evening."

      After the doctor went away, Mrs. Gaston gave the medicine he had left, as directed, and then forced herself from the bedside, and resumed her work. By the time the button-holes of the garment she was engaged upon were all completed, and the back and shoulder seams sewed up, it was time to see about something for dinner. She put aside the jacket, and went to the bed. Ella lay as if asleep. Her face was flushed, and her skin dry and hot. The mother looked upon her for a few moments with a yearning heart; then, turning away, she took from a closet her bonnet and shawl, and a little basket. Passing quickly down-stairs, after telling Emma to keep very still and be a good girl until she came back, she took her way toward the market-house. At a butcher's she obtained, for three cents, some bones, and then at one of the stalls bought a few herbs, a head of cabbage, and three turnips; the whole at a cost of sixpence.

      With these she returned home, renewed her fire, and, after preparing the bones and vegetables she had procured, put them into an iron pot with some water, and hung this upon the crane. She then sat down again to her work.

      At twelve o'clock Henry came in from school, and brought up an armful of wood, and some water, and then, by direction of his mother, saw that the fire was kept burning briskly. At one, Mrs. Gaston laid by her work again, and set the table for dinner. Henry went for a loaf of bread while she was doing this, and upon his return found all ready. The meal, palatable to all, was a well-made soup; the mother and her two children ate of it with keen appetites. When it was over, Henry went away again to school and Mrs. Gaston, after administering to Ella another dose of medicine, sat down once more to her work. One sleeve remained to be sewed in, when the garment would only require to have the collar put on, and be pressed off. This occupied her until late in the afternoon.

      "Thirty cents for all that!" she sighed to herself, as she laid the finished garment upon the bed. "Too bad! Too bad! How can a widow and three children subsist on twenty cents a day?"

      A deep moan from Ella caused her to look at her child more intently than she had done for half an hour. She was alarmed to find that her face had become like scarlet, and was considerably swollen. On speaking to her, she seemed quite stupid, and answered incoherently, frequently putting her hand to her throat, as if in pain there. This confirmed the mother's worst fears for her child, especially as she was in a raging fever. Soon after, Henry came in from school, and she dispatched him for Doctor R—, who returned with the boy. He seemed uneasy at the manner in which the symptoms were developing themselves. A long and silent examination ended in his asking for a basin. He bled her freely, as there appeared to be much visceral congestion, and an active inflammation of the tonsils, larynx, and air passages, with a most violent fever. After this she lay very still, and seemed much relieved. But, half an hour after the doctor had left, the fever rallied again, with burning intensity. Her face swelled rapidly, and the soreness of her throat increased. About nine o'clock the doctor came in again, and upon examining the child's throat, found it black and deeply ulcerated.

      "What do you think of her, doctor?" asked the poor mother, eagerly.

      "I think her very ill, madam—and, I regret to say, dangerously so."

      "Is it scarlet fever, doctor?"

      "It is, madam. A very bad case of it. But do not give way to feelings of despondency. I have seen worse cases recover."

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