The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1878-09-05
Personal Experience of Yellow Fever.

correspondence Detroit Evening News.
tits six weeks or rather more, since |
lounged into the billiard-room of the st.
Charles Hotel, and looked at the flying
ivory spheres as they were being manip-
ulated by two local crack players. There
is yellow fever in the city, though the
newspapers say nothing on the sub
ject. One of the players as he chalks
his cue, makes a jesting illusion on the
arrival of Bronze John" / have been
feeling an inexplicable sensation grow
ing over me; enveloping my limbs,
covering my back, and swathing my
chest with garment of shuddering un-
easiness. didn't like the players re-
mark. inwardly wished that the op-
ponent might beat him that game, and
strobe to one of the seats against the
wall. l was about turning round to
sit down, when something like cricket
terrible decrease in vitality. Why do
say cricket bat? Because it felt as
though a light piece of wood, fashioned
like the fattish, rounded blade of q
cricket-bat, had struck me squarely, but
not very hard across the back, several
inches below the shoulder blades. l
sink into the chair. A dull, but over
mastering pain shoots through my head
my limbs tremble. l stare with perti-
nacity at the game, however. My favor
ite player has an apparently impossible
shot. He looks at the situation of the
ball, and whistles deprecatingly as he
chalks his cue. With swift motion, as
if he had made up his mind for coup
diffcite, he shoots his ball against the
object sphere. His ivory globe spins
swiftly round the table, making one,
two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
cushions, twice round the table, and
caroms. The spectators hum applause
an enthusiastic, swarthy faced Creole
pounds his stick on the floor. My head
becomes oppressed with load of pain,
and cold chills shoot up my back.
X
"Where do you live" asks the
swarthy face. 1 look half-vacantly in
his face, and gurgle, "No. -, Baronne
street." The billiard-room, crowded q
moment before, is empty.
My landlady is an old North of-Ire.
land woman, and she has kept boarding.
house in New Orleans for thirty.years.
Her husband died of yellow fever dur.
ing bad season before the war, and she
manages her extensive business, with
the help of her unmarried daughter.
My room is in building rented by her
across the way for single mems apart
ments, and the roomers in that house
come across the way for their meals
"Don't be afraid, nowp said the old
lady; I'll get Mrs. Delaney for ye, and
we'll get you through. The Doctor will
be round in little while"
Give me some ice.water," 1 CRY
huskily; "9uick, for the love of God vi
She answered that she would. Dur
ing every half-luci3 moment in the foul
days, when my stout, imperious, kind.
hearted lrish nurse gave me, at excruci
atingly long intervals, spoonful of ice
water, and sometimes piece of ice the
size of a hazel-nut, / raved and cursed
at my landlady. She was vile, she was
atrocious, she was infamous. The re
| collection that she had promised the ice
| water, and had heartlessly gone back OF
her word, filled me with tempestuou
Indignation. Oh! if she had given mt
that cooling drink l would have beer
| we'll. would not have been the fiery fur
| mace that am. l would have choked OF
| the demen of thirst which is now con
suming my vitals. Now can drink thu
whole water-supply of the city. Wha
ecstacy to be one of the fortv-two incl
wish the Mississippi River to flow dow
my throat! Oil give me the ocean it
Sc f with my personal orifice somewher
| in the Arctic seas near the frozen pole
The long night slowly fits away, AM
the blazingsu sun again scorches the plague
stricken city. Mrs. Delaney, by fortu
nate chance, has been secured. He
last patient, Northern business man
had died. Mrs. Delaney does not preten
to be very sorry. She isslxty-one years O
age, but more active than many a youn
woman of twenty. She knows her bus
ness thoroughly, and has no vain sent
mentalism in her composition. In tn
intervals of my restless tumbling abou
the bed, commune with Mrs. Delaney
Her first experience with yellow feve
was many years ago-in the bad seaso
of 1837-when her first husband was
victim to the plague, and she was lei
alone with baby to fight the battle Q
life. She married again, she tells me
and her second husband is not dead yet
She remarks in a crisp voice that sh
doesn't know where he is, and sh
doesn't care. We change the subjec
find that | can not possibly die tx
day. This is the second, and col
sequently an even number of days.
may die tomorrow. which is Wedne
day, the third day; or l may become d,
funct ON Friday, the fifth day; or l ma
shuttle off this fiery, superheated coil O
| hn 7
linger in agony till the following Tue
day, the ninth day; but 1 can scorcl
and burn, and gasp, and yell on any ,
the intervening days without fear I
death. I study this theory over in
wild, unconnected way, and think
odd.
"The docthers say the croisis mu
come on an odd day; and have alwa.
found it so myself" says Mrs. Delane
"Can We spit?' The change of subje
, is too abrupt, and I stare at h
vacantly.
"Spit in that Hump! Is yer mout
sore? tits. Well, that's good. Ye'
lose a power o. blood out of y
mouth"
Next day the doctor decides that a
, afflicted with epistaxis Q don't kno
, whether I have spelled it right). 1t
bleeding from the mouth, tongue ar
! gums. My tongue is swollen, and the
are raw tissures in it, and also in n
+ gums, and streams of blood issuing a
the time. After while my nose co
tributes bloody stream, and faint
ask Mrs. Delaney if l am going to ble'
to death.
4 "No; no danger of that. Bleedil
S is a good sign" she says. l swallo
f lime-water and calcined magnesi
&. which, am informed, prevents blac
a vomit. My eyes, which have be,
aching terribly, now become fiercely i
r famed, and seem to be ready to start O
e of my head. Toward evening l sign
e my nurse to hand me small MIR
o which is hanging against the wall. s.
e refuses. l insist. She persists,
S come exasperated and jump out of be
/, ana, with firm step, walk up to t