Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1880-03-25
be a wise and precautionary measure.

pretty, graciOug way, as she bares hel
white arm. 81 have never been vaccinat
ed since was a baby, 50 | suppose it vii
be desirable.
Desirablc2 should think so, indeed
And send up prayer as perform the
operation that may not be too late.
am so busy for the next few days that
am unable to go down to the cottage.
One or two more cases of small pox In the
village, and | am anxious and hard.
worked; but Mary Anne tells me Mrs.
0gilvie has heard of Mrs. Black
removal and is dreadful nervous
about herself, al hope she will not fright.
EN- herself into it," adds my wife.
"If she hadn't contracted it before
yaccinated her, | think she is pretty safe, "
| reply; "but there the chance that she
may have had the poison in her pre-
viously.
Almost as speak message comes from
Mrs. Ogilvie, who "wishes to see me
professionally My heart SINKS as seize
my hat and follow the messenger; and
with too good reason. | find her suffering
from the first symptom of smallpox; and
in twentyfOur hours it has declared itself
unequivocally and threatens to be bad
case. try to keep the nature of her i'll
ness from her, but in vain. She questions
me closely, and when she discovers the
truth, gives way to burst Of despair that
is painful to witness. 81 shall be hid
eous!" she exclaims, sobbing bitterly
"Poor Frank, how he will hate mel"
lnvan tried to comfort her, to con-
vince her that in not one out of hundred
cases does the disease leave dreadful
traces behind it; she refuses to be con-
sOled. And soon she is too i'll to be rea-
sOned with or indeed to know much Of her
own state. The is an orphan and has no
near relatives for whom we can send, so
Mary Anne installs herself in the sick
room as head nurse; and as | see her
bending lovingly over the poor djsfgurcd
face, and ministeling with tender hands
to the ceaseless wants Of the invalid, my
wife is in my eyees beautiful exceedingly;
so does the shadow of good deed cast
glory around the most homely cOunte-
nance.
For some time Mrs. Ogilyie's life is in
great danger; but her youth and good
constitution prevail against the grim de-
5troyer, and at length | am able to pro-
nounce all peril past.
But alas, alas! all my hopes, all my
care, all my poor skill haye been in vain;
and the beauty which we have all admired
50 much, and which has been so precious
to our poor patient, is thing of the ra,t
She is marked-slightly, it is true; but
the pure complexion is thick and muddy,
the once bright eyes are heavy and dull,
and the golden hair is thin and ustreless
We keep 1t from her as long as we can.
but she soon discovers it in our own sOr.
rowful looks, and her horror, her agony,
almost threaten to unseat her reason. Ny
wife is with her night and day, watching
her like mother, using every argument
she can think Of TO console her, and above
all, coun3eling with gentle words submS-
sion to the will of God. But her misery,
after the first shock, is not so much for
herself, as for the possible effect the loss
Of her beauty may have On her husband,
who is now daily expected. HIS ship has
been at sea, so we have been unable til
write to him, and only en- his arrival in
Plymouth sound will he hear of his poor
young wite's illness and Disagreement.
Before her sickness she had been count
ing the hours, now she sees every day 90
past with a shudder, feeling that she is
brought twenty-tOur hours nearer to the
dread trial. AT length his vessel arrives,
and | reeve telegram telling me when
we may expect him, and begging me to
break the news gently to his wife. She
rcor'voq il with nNoA Of bitter tears and
SOb'. Cryn., gu, that lie will haze and
lOathe her, and that shn il about to lose
all the happiness of hes life. My wife
weeps with her, and | am conscious of Il
choking sensation in my throat as we take
leave Of her half an hour before Mr.. Ogil, |
vie is expected, and pray God to bless
and sustain her
We are sitting in rather moumtul mood !
after dinner, talking Of the poor young
husband and wife, when Mr.. 0gilvie is
and hasten to the door to |
meet him.
"She will not see mel" he says impet- |
uously, coming in without any formal
greeting. "She has shut herself into her
room, and calls to me with hystercal tears
that she is too dreadful to look upon, that |
shall cease TO love her as soon as be- |
hold her, and that she cannot face it,"
And then the strong man falls inte n chair
with a sob.
1T is not 50 bad as that" begin.
81 don't care how bad 1t is" he cries;
"she need not doubt my love. Ny poor
darling will always be the same to me
whether she has lost her beauty or not"
Whereupon extend my hand to him
and shake his heartily; and know my |
wife has great difficulty in restraining her.
self from enveloping him in her motherly |
arms and embracing him.
I'VE must resort to stratagem, | say,
will 90 down to the cottage at once, and |
you follow me in ten minutes with my
wife. | will try and coax Mrs. 0gilvie to
come out and speak to me and you must
steal upon her unawares.
Mrs. Ogilvie at first refuses to see or
speak to me, but | 90 up to the door, and
am mean enough to remind her of my
wife's devotion to her, and to entreat her,
for her sake, to come down to me.
"Where is Frank?" she asks.
"l left him at home with Mary Anne"
reply, feeling that | am worthy Of being
a diplomatist at the court of st. Peters
burg, rs She opens the door and descends
the stairs. | take her out into the garden
and begin 20 reproye her for her Conduct
with assumed anger. She listens with
ewes blinded by tears. |. ON the lookout
for it, hear the latch of the garden cate
click; but she, absorbed in her sorrow
does not notice it. | look up and see
Frank Ogilyie's ewes fastened hnorilv
upon his wife. Her changed appearance
must be an awful shock TO him. Inf he