himself in such a ludicrously
woebegone attitude, that Miss Arnold had great difficulty in
restraining herself from laughing outright. She managed, however, to
keep a straight face, and replied:

"Well, this time I will allow it to pass; but never let me hear of
such conduct again, or I will not be so lenient."

"Thank you, missus; and may I ask you a queshun?"

"Yes."

"I want ter ask you, how yer kep' them there fel's from a dyin'?
'Cause when they're bin tuk like they wuz tuk yer could jest bet every
muel in the kerral that they'd peg out in twenty-seven hours at
furthest."

"God did it, not I," replied Agnes.

"Don't call me sassin' yer, agin, Miss Agony, but that ain't so;
'cause thar's nuthin' 'll fetch 'em, when they're tuk the way they wuz
tuk. It's magic done it, nuthin' else!"

"Well, in case you should feel the headache, sick stomach, and chill
coming on at any time, or fall in with any person suffering that way,
remember the following recipe. Take out your book again and put it
down."

"Yes, Miss Agony, willin'."

The fellow produced his book and pencil, and holding the former flat
up against the door, wrote at Miss Arnold's dictation:

"Put the feet immediately into hot and very strong mustard water--put
in plenty of mustard. Quickly take a strong emetic of ipecac or
mustard water. Go to bed immediately, and send for the doctor. While
waiting for the doctor, get salt mackerel, directly out of the brine,
and bind them to the soles of the feet. And the moment the patient
craves any particular article of food or drink, do not hesitate to
give it _moderately_. If mackerel cannot be obtained, use strong raw
onions or garlic. In a few hours the mackerel will most likely become
putrid; if so, remove them, and apply others."

"Golly! Golly! I knowed it was magic--somethin' like that, and not
medicine at all!" exclaimed the fellow, nodding his head to himself.

"Let me look at your book, to see if you have it correctly written,"
said Agnes, stepping partially behind the driver.

"Lor' bless you, Miss Agony!" he exclaimed, "you'd never be able to
read my writin'. Hold on, an' I'll read fur you myself, an' then yer
ken tell me ef I'm wrong."

As Agnes still manifested a desire to look at the book, however, he
held it for her inspection. But with the exception of here and there a
small word, like _a_ or _the_, she could not decipher any of the
scrawl. So she expressed her desire to hear it read.

T