92 MARK TWAIN'S SKETCHES. 



her extra clothing. Now mightn't we put on another layer of poultices and — " 



I did not finish, because I was interrupted. I lugged wood up from below for 

 some little time, and then turned in and fell to snoring as only a man can whose 

 strength is all gone and whose soul is worn out. Just at broad daylight I felt a 

 grip on my shoulder that brought me to my senses suddenly. — My wife was glaring 

 down upon me and gasping. As soon as she could command her tongue she said: 



" It is all over ! All over ! The child's perspiring ! What shall we do .' 



'' Mercy, how you terrify me ! / don't know what we ought to do. Maybe if 

 we scraped her and put her in the draft again — " 



" O, idiot ! There is not a moment to lose ! Go for the doctor. Go yourself. 

 Tell him he must come, dead or alive." 



I dragged that poor sick man from his bed and brought him. He looked at the 

 child and said she was not dying. This was joy unspeakable to me, but it made 

 my wife as mad as if he had offered ■ her a personal affront. Then he said the 

 child's cough was only caused by some trifling irritation or other in the throat. At 

 this I thought my wife had a mind to show him the door. — Now the doctor said he 

 would make the child cough harder and dislodge the trouble. So he gave her 

 something that sent her into a spasm of coughing, and presently up came a little 

 wood splinter or so. 



" This child has no membranous croup," said he. '" She has been chewing a bit 

 of pine shingle or something of the kind, and got some rittle slivers in her throat. 

 They won't do her any hurt." 



" No," said I, " I can well believe that. Indeed the turpentine that is in them 

 is very good for certain sorts of diseases that are peculiar to children. My wife 

 will tell you so." 



But ^she did not. She turned aw.^y in disdain and left the room; and since that 

 time there is one episode in our life which we never refer to. Hence the tide of 

 our days flows by in deep and untroubled serenity. 



[Very few married men have such an experience as McWilliams's-, and so the author of this book, 

 tiiought that maybe the novelty of it would give it a passing interest to the reader.] 



