San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-10-05
emblance to an enragcd yellow 60

semblance 10 an enrdScu yeioW ~
rilla.
"If We git the bloody sweat, yer gone,"
saws Mrs. Delaney, with charming SYM
patty.
of yellow-jack is a universal bleeding
from the pores of the skin, and that,
when this makes its appearance, the
patient may as we'll throw up the
sponge. tell her boastfully that blood
sweat or black-vomit has no terrors for
mel would Just as soon have both OF
them together. She says "Shut up!" but
says it softly, and endeavers to arrange
the sheet in which my tortured form is
partially enwrapped. The contact OF
the mere cloth ON my abdomen makes
me shrek with agony. | rise from the
bed frantically and approach the win
dow, and my burning eyesare saluted by
A FUNERAL PROCESSION,
preceded by a hearse with nodding
plumes. Shocked, in spite of a reck-
fessness born of fierce pain, l lie down
again, but no position gives comfort.
The fiery heat which consumes my alb.
domen Is supplemented with horrible
pains in my loins, thighs, calves, knees,
ankles, and even toes, which feel as
though scraped by razor and then
gnawed by dogs sharp teeth.
The pain in my head becomes more
intense, and so does the agony in every
part of my body. No position gives
ease. NV stomach and bowels have a
burning heat, as though scalded by boil
ing water or scorched by Goals Of fire,
and shrek, and blaspheme, and curse
my nurse and landlady for not adequate
" assuaging my thirst. l lie on my
back or side, with knees drawn up, and
objurgate God and man. Then there
slowly comes a change. Myskin, which
during the first three days was hot and
dry, and afterward, on the fourth day,
slightly moist, now perspires freely.
Worn out, l lie gasping and grooming,
and still afflicted with pain and thirst.
The doctor is summoned, and comes
with his brown, genteel assistant, and
saws he rather thinks 1 will be all right
in a few days. He looks pleased, and
so does his assistant. Mrs. Delaney is
cool and unmoved. As night approaches
she lights the gas (the light does not
hurt my eyes at ally and lets down the
curtain, and, seeing that l am tolerably
quiet, asks if she can leave me for half
an hour. I groan assent, while my
heart jumps with expectation. Her
toilet is easily made and she is gone.
NOCTURNAL EXCURSION.
Now or never. l rise with difficulty
and peer round for the water-pitcher.
Curses on her, she has taken it away!
1 fall back in profound despair. In
the silence of the night I hear the noisy
exclamations of card-players in the lit
tie coffee. house on the corner across the
way. A wild idea crosses my brain,
and l deliberately slide out of bed and
lie prone on the carpet. Then | roll
slowly toward the door, tacking around
the table and my nurses chair so as to
save exertion. Then turn the handle,
and the door opens toward me. No fear
of being discovered! 1 and my nurse
are the only occupants of the house, and
she is out!
1 am attired in n simple costume con-
sisting of only one linen garment, while
around my neck is a cloth stained with
blood from my mouth. I descend the
stairs which lead to the side.door in the
primitive manner of child of ten
months, and unlock the door leading to
the side of the house. Across the mar
row street it is scarcely twelve feet in
Widths the One-story cotfee-house.
The saloons of New Orleans are gener-
ally called coffee-houses, and a number
of them keep the fragrant decoction of
the bean of Yemen always on hand.
This coffee-house is simply tenth-rate
bar-room, frequented principally by
"dagos," which generic title takes in
all men of Spanish extraction engaged
in fishing or bringing fruit or vegeta-
bles to market from points on the river.
The landlord, Misunderstanding " da-
Co." with dark, pallid face like Las
car, is playing cards with three of his
customers, with all the heat and noise
peculiar to gamblers of the Latin race.
I see them through a stationary wooden
blind, which partially conceals the shah
by bar and the array of bottles and de-
canters reflected in a cheap, dirty mir
ror. / make my way over the pave
ment on my hands and knees. pause
unobserved under the veranda of the
groggery, and gaze with feverish desire
on something which stands on the coun-
ter. My head burns fercely with my
unwonted exertion. Finally, with su-
preme effort, stagger across the room
to the bar, lift up the battered pewter
ice-pitcher to my lips, and commence
drinking. To my dying day will de-
clare that draught
THE SWEETEST EVER DRANK BY MAN.
The next moment there was a hurried
movement. Two of the men ran out
with a howl of horror. The landlord
snat ched the pitcher from my lips, and
his companion seized me in his arms.