Sweetapple Cove Part 23

"That's too bad," said Daddy. "I expected to wear those things in Virginia this fall, after quail, or on the Chesapeake when the canvas-backs are flying."

"I am afraid you will have to buy some, Daddy," I answered.

So I sat beside him, at his feet, and I think my mood had changed a little. Perhaps it was fatigue, which I didn't really feel. I suppose that people can have things the matter with them without knowing anything about it. Daddy's dear old hand rested for a moment on my head, and I had to stop knitting. I don't think I ever felt so queerly before, and I had to look over Sweetapple Cove and follow the flight of the gulls, until the shadows grew quite long and the clouds became tinted with rose, and Daddy asked me to get him a cigar, and I was glad he interrupted my silly thoughts. I must have been really very tired.

I could only write a little while, last night. We had some caribou steak which Daddy became quite enthusiastic over, but I didn't feel hungry, and I went to bed early, but somehow I slept poorly. It is funny that one can be tired for several days at a time. And to-day, Aunt Jennie, some queer things have happened, and the life that has so often felt like dreams has become very serious, and I have seen some of the inner working of events such as make one feel that existence has cruel sides to it.

All this morning I dawdled about the house. I had expected Dr. Grant to call and see Daddy, but he had been sent for, a short distance away, in the boat.

Rather late this afternoon he returned, and I strolled over towards the cove when I saw the tiny schooner come in. It is a poor enough little ship, but it is wonderful to think how it bears with it such comfort and help to so many suffering people.

I was within a few yards of him, and he was lifting his cap when a fisherman rushed up to him.

"Ye're wanted ter Atkins'," said the man. "They is a child there as is awful sick. They brung 'un over from Edward's Bay, this mornin', an' th'

mother she be prayin' fer ye to come."

"All right," he answered. "Sammy, bring my bag up with you and I'll hurry up at once."

He only smiled at me, in his pleasant way, for he rushed by me, running up the rough path in great strides, and of course I could only go back to our house, where I sat with Daddy on the porch.

From where I sat I could see Atkins' house. It is only a little way from us, up the hill. There were a number of people a.s.sembled in front of it, because whenever any one is hurt or very ill they are apt to gather around, as people do sometimes in New York before a house where an ambulance has stopped. Then I saw the doctor sprinting out towards Sammy's house, whence he returned carrying another bag. Of course I have several times helped him a little, in the last month, when Mrs. Barnett didn't get in ahead of me, so I rose.

"I am going up to Atkins'," I told Dad. "I wonder what is the matter. I shall only be gone a few minutes."

So I ran away, bare-headed, and rushed to the place, but before I reached it Mrs. Barnett arrived there, all out of breath.

When I pa.s.sed through the waiting people I heard Dr. Grant's voice, and he spoke very angrily. I had never thought before that he could get quite so mad. There was a swarm of women in the house, some of them with babies in their arms, and a few children, among whom was Frenchy's little boy, had also slipped in.

"Get out of here!" he was shouting, roughly. "All of you but the child's mother and Mrs. Atkins. Haven't I told you it is dangerous? Do you want to spread this thing about and kill off all your children? And you, Mrs.

Barnett, must give the example. I won't have you running chances with those babies of yours. Do get out, like a dear woman, and chevy these other ones out with you."

He was bustling them all out like a lot of hens, in his effective, energetic way, and then he saw me.

"I want you to get out too, Miss Jelliffe," he ordered me. "This is a bad case of diphtheria. The child is choking and I must relieve it at once."

I took a few steps back, rather resentfully, because I had never been spoken to in that way before, and I thought it very rude of him, but I did not leave the place. The doctor was very busy with some instruments and perhaps had forgotten my presence.

He made the woman sit on a stool, with the little girl wrapped in a sheet and sitting on her lap. I saw him take up a shiny instrument, which he fastened in the baby's mouth, notwithstanding her struggles.

"Now hold her firmly," he ordered, "and you, Mrs. Atkins, get behind her and take her head. Hold it steady, just this way. Never mind her crying."

But the little one wrenched herself away from the woman's grasp. The breath entered its lungs with an awful long hoa.r.s.e sound and the poor little lips were very blue.

"For G.o.d's sake, hold her better," he cried again.

"I'm all of a tremble," said Mrs. Atkins, weeping. "She's sure goin' ter die. I kin never hold her, she do be fightin' me so."

Of course there was only one thing to do. I ran out of the corner to which I had retreated and pushed the foolish woman away and seized the baby's head so that it could not move.

Dr. Grant stared at me, shaking his head, but I suppose I looked at him defiantly, for I was really angry with him.

"This is all wrong, Miss Jelliffe," he said. "You should not expose yourself to this infection."

He spoke so quietly that I became rather sorry I had been provoked at him, but he paid no more heed to me. Once he placed a hand on one of mine, to show me exactly how to hold the head, and then he took a long handle to which something was fastened at right angles. The child's mouth was widely opened by the gag he had inserted, and his left finger went swiftly down into the child's throat and the instrument, pushed by his right hand, followed, incredibly quick. There was just a rapid motion, I heard the release of a catch, and then, suddenly, there was a terrifying attack of violent coughing. But in a moment this ceased, the child lay back quietly in her mother's arms, the color began to return to her lips, and she was breathing quietly. Then we watched, in silence, and finally the little head turned to one side and the baby closed her eyes, while the poor woman's tears streamed down and even fell on the tiny face.

"She is all right for the time being," said Dr. Grant, in that quiet voice of his, which I have heard change so quickly. "If she can only resist until the ant.i.toxine acts upon her we may pull her through. I am greatly obliged to you, Miss Jelliffe. I am afraid your father will scold us both for taking such chances with your health."

But by this time my eyes were full of tears also, I don't know why. I was unsteady on my feet and held on to the back of a chair.

"I never saw anything like this before," I said. "I didn't quite realize that it ever happened. The poor little thing was dying, and you did it all so quickly! That thing went in like a flash, and then she coughed so and I thought she was lost. And now she sleeps, and I am sure you have saved her, and she must get well. How dreadful it was, at first, and how wonderfully beautiful it is to be able to do such things! I am so glad!"

Wasn't it silly of me to get so excited, Aunt Jennie. But I suppose one can't understand such happenings until one has witnessed them. I know that I had taken the doctor's arm, without realizing what I was doing, and found myself patting it, stupidly, like a silly, hysterical thing.

His face was very serious, just then, and he looked at me as if he had been studying another patient. Then came that little smile of his, very kindly, which made me feel better.

"I think you had better go now, Miss Jelliffe," he advised. "I beg you not to expose yourself further. It is a duty you owe your good old father and any one who cares for you."

Then I was myself again. The excitement of those tense moments had pa.s.sed away and I knew I had been a little foolish and that he spoke ever so gently.

"I will go since you wish me to," I answered. "But I am ever so glad that I was able to help you. You will come to supper, won't you?"

"I am afraid you will have to excuse me," he said. "I can hardly do so now, for I must remain here and watch this child for some time. You will please change all your clothing and have it hung out on the line, and you will gargle your throat with something I will send you. I'll call to-morrow and see your father, and give you the latest news of this little patient."

"I didn't know that you ever got so angry," I said, now prompted by some spirit of mischief. "You were in a dreadful temper when I came in."

"Of course I was," he readily admitted. "But do you realize that this is the continuation of an old story. This woman was in St. John's last week, with the child, and I suppose they may have brought the disease from there. Then the child became ill, the night before last, and she waits until this morning to bring it over to me. When she reaches here she finds me away, but of course every woman in the place strolls in, with children in arms, to look on and give advice. We may be in for a fine epidemic. I shall have to send to St. John's at once for a new supply of ant.i.toxine. I have only a little, and it is not very fresh. Atkins is away with his schooner but he is expected to-morrow. I hope he turns up.

Thank you ever so much, Miss Jelliffe. Now please run away and follow my directions."

So I left him and returned to the house and obeyed his orders. We soon had supper, but when I told Daddy all about it, it was his turn to be angry.

"That's all very well," he said, "but after all he could have found some one else to help him and you had no business to disobey. When the time comes for you to have babies of your own you can risk your life for them as much as you please, but you have no right to run into danger now. You are my only child, and I have no one else to love since your poor mother died. Please don't do such things again. Grant was perfectly right in trying to chase you away. He should have taken a stick to you."

Daddy's ruffled tempers are never proof against my method of smoothing the raging seas. My arm around his neck and a kiss will make him eat out of my hand, as Harry Lawrence puts it. Naturally he succ.u.mbed again and in a minute was just as nice as ever.

We had only just finished our supper when Frenchy came in, leading his little boy by the hand. He bore a letter which he gravely handed to Daddy who, as usual, had to look into three or four pockets before he found his gla.s.ses. Then he read, and his face became serious, as it always does when he takes sudden decisions.

"Yves," he said, "will you oblige me by going down to the cove at once and hailing the schooner. I want my captain to come over here."

Frenchy departed, after saluting as usual, his little fellow trotting beside him, and Daddy, without a word, handed the letter to me. I read as follows:

_Dear Mr. Jelliffe_:

I had intended to see you to-morrow morning, and expect to do so, but I believe it might be best for you to obtain my advice at once. Miss Jelliffe has doubtless told you how she helped me with a case of diphtheria, although I am sure she omitted to say how brave and helpful she was. The danger to her is comparatively slight, I am sure, yet we must not forget that such a danger exists. If you were to start to-morrow morning you could be in St. John's before night. From there two days would find you in Halifax and two more in New York, so that you would be always near good care and advice.

With a little care and prudence in regard to your leg I am sure that you can reach home quite safely.