The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1875-09-23
JOHN JONES, SICK MAN.

The Way VI. Quad tells the Story of Sick
ness in the Family.
He was "grunting around" for two or
three days before he would give up.
Mrs. Jones advised him to take pills or
quinine, but he said he guessed he'd be
all right as soon as the weather changed
again. On the third morning he had a
high fever and couldn't stand up.
Mrs. Jones seemed delighted. He
years, and she had a splendid stock of
herbs and powders and liquids in the
pantry.
"Now, just give right up, John Wash
ington," she replied, as he groaned and
sighed aud declared that he'd get up and
go down town as usual if it killed him.
"There, let me turn your pillow over,
hang your clothes in the closet, and then
I'll run in and make you some toast"
He had to submit. She darkened the
bedroom, put clean spread on the bed,
and q grand smile covered her face as
she sailed into the kitchen.
Sarah Jane, you go and fan your
father with a newspaper and keep the
flies off'n him while L get the poor man
something to eat Your father is very
sick man, Sarah Jane, and 1 can't say
that you won't be fatherless next week
at this time ~
Sarah went in and Mrs. Jones rushed
from the stove to the pantry. She toast
ed four large slices of bread, broke three
eggs into hot water, got down a pint
glass of jelly, sent for half pound of
crackers, and in about half an hour she
had the sick mans breakfast ready.
CT don't care what all the doctors in
the land say" she remarked as she drew
three chairs within his reach and loaded
them down with the provisions. "I
know that people can't be sick without
something on their stomach"
He tasted the toast, slipped at the tea,
groaned, growled, and sighed and she
pleaded.
"Now, John, do try and eat some
thing. 1 know just how bad you feel,
and I know you haven't any appetite,
but do try"
ooh |" he groaned as his stomach re-
belled against the food.
"Poor man poor man |" she sighed,
as she placed her hand on his head
"John Washington, if you should die
this would be a sad house L don't be-
lieve could stand up under the blow
over three weeks, and 1 know the chill
dren would give right up!'
Hadn't we better have doctor ?" he
inquired, becoming frightened.
"Not now, John-not until we see
that 1 can't do you any good. 1 know
those doctors to T. They'd come here
and dose and dose and made great bill,
and you'd probably die just the same"
She carried out the food, put on ket-
tie of water, got out a clean towel, and
as she entered the bedroom with dish
of warm water in her hand she said
"Now, then, must wash your feet
and cut your toe nails"
She sat beside the bed, took his foot
in her lap, and that sweet smile on her
face proved that his illness would be
gain to her of pound of flesh per
day.
"My soul but I'm glad I thought to
wash your feet |" she exclaimed, as she
rubbed them with the wet towel. CT
wouldn't have had any of the neighbors
come in and see these feet for all we
are worth"
She wanted to scrape the soles with
an old case-knife, but he wouldn't per-
NIT it. She, however, got out the shears
and had good time cutting his toe
nails and digging under them. She work
ed industriously for half an hour, and
then held the last foot off and looked at
it admiringly, and said:
"There I'll take my dying oath that
you've got the cleanest feet in this
town"
He half admitted that he felt better,
and, greatly encouraged, she sent Sarah
Jane out to pull some horseradish leaves.
These were trimmed, laid on the stove,
rolled in her hand, and she went back to
Mr.. Jones and said:
"Now, then, we'n put on the drafts"
She put leaf on the sole of each foot,
tied clean cloths over them, hunted up
clean socks, and worried them ON over
the cloths. and, as she tucked the spread
down, she asked
"Now, John Washington, don't you
feel better-a little better ?"
"Oh, dunno |" he groaned, turning
over.
She turned over his pillow, put
damp cloth on his forehead, counted his
pulse, and whispered: -..I
"See if you can't catch little sleep
while go and wash the Dishes"
When she went out Sarah Jane had
her brother William harnessed to a chair
and was driving him around the kitchen
for her horse.
"What didn't tell you that your
father was dangerously ill?" exclaimed
the mother, as she boxed their ears. sit
would be a pretty story to go out that
you children We're playing horse when
your father lay dyinga"
The children subsided, and as the