I threw in the fire.
Mrs. McWilliams sprang out of bed and rescued it and we had some words.
I had another trifling interval of sleep, and then got up, by request,
and constructed a flax-seed poultice. This was placed upon the child's
breast and left there to do its healing work.

A wood-fire is not a permanent thing. I got up every twenty minutes and
renewed ours, and this gave Mrs. McWilliams the opportunity to shorten
the times of giving the medicines by ten minutes, which was a great
satisfaction to her. Now and then, between times, I reorganized the
flax-seed poultices, and applied sinapisms and other sorts of blisters
where unoccupied places could be found upon the child. Well, toward
morning the wood gave out and my wife wanted me to go down cellar and get
some more. I said:

"My dear, it is a laborious job, and the child must be nearly warm
enough, with her extra clothing. Now mightn't we put on another layer of
poultices and--"

I did not finish, because I was interrupted. I lugged wood up from below
for some little time, and then turned in and fell to snoring as only a
man can whose strength is all gone and whose soul is worn out. Just at
broad daylight I felt a grip on my shoulder that brought me to my senses
suddenly. My wife was glaring down upon me and gasping. As soon as she
could command her tongue she said:

"It is all over! All over! The child's perspiring! What shall we do?"

"Mercy, how you terrify me! I don't know what we ought to do. Maybe if
we scraped her and put her in the draft again--"

"Oh, idiot! There is not a moment to lose! Go for the doctor.
Go yourself. Tell him he must come, dead or alive."

I dragged that poor sick man from his bed and brought him. He looked at
the child and said she was not dying. This was joy unspeakable to me,
but it made my wife as mad as if he had offered her a personal affront.
Then he said the child's cough was only caused by some trifling
irritation or other in the throat. At this I thought my wife had a mind
to show him the door. Now the doctor said he would make the child cough
harder and dislodge the trouble. So he gave her something that sent her
into a spasm of coughing, and presently up came a little wood splinter or
so.

"This child has no membranous croup," said he. "She has been chewing a
bit of pine shingle or something of the kind, and got some little slivers
in her throat. They won't do her any hurt."

"No," sai