Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-01-29

AUNT SUES PANIC.
lcoNcIrpED FROM YESTERDAY

lcoNCICpED FROM YESTERDAY.
The atmosphere was as heavy as wool,
and dry as Gileon's fleece. How the NOR
rows sun would scorch up that narrow
street, and fructify the seeds of disease
and death! The least itching in my limbs
or features seemed to be the precursor OF
smallpox. and every flush the herald of
scarlet fever. saw Lucy's frightened
looks when the news should first be told
her of the enemy that had its appearance
amongst US. and her hopeless face as she
bent over her dying boy. OF course it
showed a great want of faith; but at
all events, my tears were not for myself.
/ thought of the delicate mother and her
frail child, and of dear, handsome Frank
smitten down in his youth and happiness.
or course we could not leave the viii
lage that night,l but resolved to hasten
our departure for the projected picnics as
much as possible, and that once away, we
should never return to Clovelly. would
tell Frank what had happened at the place
it had been agreed on that we should dine,
and then We would take up our quarters
elsewhere-in some town that had resi-
dent doctor--and wait our fate. If the
disease was in the air, as the papers said,
we should probably carry it with us; but
at all events we should be in better posi-
ton to combat it than where we were at
present. To be in Clovelly, as it seemed
to us, was to lie down in our collins at
once; and indeed there was not much
more room to turn around in it. My NOR
bid fancy pictured sad procession wind
ing up that very street, carrying on their
shoulders dreadful something with a
white pail upon it, and which contained
our little Bahia.
When reached the inn found to my
great relief. that all our party had retired
to rest, for, indeed. to have to converse
cheerily with any Of my dear ones with
such burden on my mind would have
been terrible ordeal; but the good land
lady was up and about, and as brisk as
usual.
''rm afraid ma'am. you won't get your
clothes from the laundress quite as soon
as had expected" were her first words.
''for her sister, who helps her with the
washing, has fallen ill. All the small
things shall, however, be sent without fail.
she says"
My heart seemed to stop beating, yet l
somehow contrived to say that there was
no hurry about the things. Ii so much as
collar or pair OF cuffs had come, l
would have burnt them with my own
hands. occupied myself at once pack
ing up not only my own clothes, but all of
Lucy's that could lay hands on, in order
that they might be ready to send after US.
aud then retired to bed-not to rest but
10 think and fear.
In the morning, Frank got up be,imes,
as was his custom, to go down to battle.
As he ran whistling down the stairs, |
thought with shudder how he would
haze to pass the infected house, and per-
haps bring back with him the very peril
from Which would have preserved him
still dared not speak. / knew his ner-
vous organization, and that he would not
be able to keep the dreadful secret from
Lucy for single hour. At breakfast,
all cave myself were in the highest spirits,
looking forward to their day of pleasure,
and even planning others to be enjoyed
"while this beautiful warm weather last
ed"
1t seemed to me as though the poor de-
luded creatures were dancing upon the
brink Of their own graves.
At last got them off, and we walked
together to the top of the hill, which was
the nearest spot to which carriage could
be brought, and began our journey. Every
mile which we put between ourselves and
the village took load from my heart, and
yet they rallied me upon my silence. did
my best to seem like myself, but the eff
fort was beyond my power. Every ring
OF Babas Laughter went through me like a
knell, and feared to speak, lest should
utterly break down and burst into tears.
At our first hating place, however the
long looked-for opportunity offered itself
of comforting with Frank alone. and | told
him all the wretched story.
To my intense horror, when had quite
done, his only reply was in roar of
laughter. At first | thought his fears for
Lucy and the child had driven him out OF
his senses.
"Be man. said ], "and help me to do
the best we can"
But. my dear Aunt Sue, it's all mis-
take" cried he. Il heard all the story of
Polly's death this morning. and what she
died OF. Polly's COW; and the foolish
woman it belonged to thought it had died
of the cattle plague. Her husband was
too drunk last night 10 find that this was
not the case; but this morning he had been
making merry Win MS VIE mistake"
.Bnf, Frank. she said that il was their
bread-winner
$50 it was, in sense, because they sup
ply the milk to our inn ; and ! the creature
had really had the disease, of course all
their other cows would have had to be de-
stroyed. As TO the sick washerwoman,
who does not happen to live in the vii
lage at all, / was told, at the little post
ofiice this morning among other local in