The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1873-07-25

whitfield the strap like a piece of soft
pine, and then made lather and shaved
her legs nicely. No, that scar wasn't
made by any common means.
When the small pox was raging in the
cities last winter, and there was danger
in all our railroad villages of that dread
disease, nearly all the people were vac
cinated. Caddy's father did such work
every day, more or less, for months.
She would stand by and watch him, and
cinated and would cry out, she would
cry, and catch the doctor around his
legs and try to pull him away. 1t hurt
her to have frightened little children cry
with pain and fear.
Cad wouldn't be vaccinated. She
would bare her arm and make up her
mind to stand it like little woman but
as soon as her father would come near
her, he would pity her, and he would
kiss her beautiful large white arm, to.
let her see how precious she was to him,
and that he would not inhict pain will
lingly. Just before he would begin,
Caddy would flip her fat legs forward,
and slide down off the chair, and be out
of sight as quickly as cunning, bright
eyed mink.
She knew she ought to be vaccine ted,
and was quite willing but it did seem
as if she were made up of two Caddies,
and one of them was willful and naughty,
and wouldn't mind the good Caddy.
That seemed to be the way of it.
One cold day, sled-load after sled-load
of families-Old folks in mutfiers, and
boys and girls, and babies-drove up to
the doctors and were vaccinated, and
then the sleds circled round and drove
away again. Caddy sat in her rocking
chair and watched them. When her
father went out to dinner she lay on the
lounge, and they supposed she was
sleepy, and paid no attention to her.
AS soon as the way was clear, she rose
and took bit of broken mirror and
leaned it on the stand, where her father
had left all his things. She barred her
arm, and pinched it to see if it hurt. 1t
did hurt. Then she thought the arm
was the tenderest place on the whole
body. She barred her leg and gave it a
pinch, and found that it hurt, too. She
tried herself in different places, but no
place quite satisfied her. AT last she
looked in the glass, and bethought her
self of the end of her nose. She took up
the needle her father had used, and gave
herself prick on the nose and found
that it didn't hurt so very badly. She
dipped the point of the pin several times
in the liquid virus, and vaccinated her
self very prettily on the end of the pref
tiest little nosey in the doctors family.
She said nothing about in. In few
days folks began to say:
"What do you drink, Cad ?" you're
getting rum blossom on your nose,
Caddy" "Why, Cad Johnson what a
nose!' Her mother said, Poor Caddy!
she's so unfortunate always stubblng
her toes, or cutting her fingers, or get
ting bumped; and now she's gone and
got bruise or something on the tip of
her precious nosey !"
Cad said nothing, but she grew cross
er and crosser, and her head ached, and
her nose grew swollen and purple, and
her eyes blinky and bloodshot and the
good, cool, creamy milk with bread
broken in it didn't taste good any more.
One night she fretted and tossed all
the long hours, and the next morning
her nose looked like a big ripe purple
plum. The doctor said there was every
appearance of malignant erysipelas but
if it was on her arm he'd call it splen-
did case of vaccination.
"What made it get sore, dear ?" said
her mother; "how did it get hurt ?"
ooh, 'spect it's my baxinate !" said
she, putting up her lip, and beginning
a pitiful cry.
SO the story was out. Cad told al
about it. Poor Caddy they laughed al
her in sly way, but they did not let he,
even see them smile. In spite of al
they could do, she would pick at the
sore place. They wanted her to let il
alone, so it could get well and not leave
scar; but she would pick it. She sale
it was her own baxinate, that she made
herself.
When it healed white scar was left
on the end of her dear little pug nose
but her father says she is growing
young child, and there will not be any
of it left to disfgure her brave, brigh
face when she will have arrived ut wo
manhood Little Corporal.
The Three sleeves.
"Oh, mamma - cried little Blanch,
Philpott, 81 heard such tale abou
Edith Howard 1 did not think sh,
could be so very naughty. One"
AZ MI ~ IL \ n