"The dusky night rides down the sky,And ushers in the morn:
The hounds all join in glorious cry,The huntsman winds his horn."Leon said our house reminded him of the mourners'bench before any one had "come through."He said it was so deadly with Sally and Shelley away,that he had a big notion to marry Susie Fall and bring her over to liven things up a little.Mother said she thought that would be a good idea,and Leon started in the direction of Falls',but he only went as far as Deams'.When he came back he had a great story to tell about dogs chasing their sheep,and foxes taking their geese.Father said sheep were only safe behind securely closed doors,especially in winter,and geese also.Leon said every one hadn't as big a barn as ours,and father said there was nothing to prevent any man from building the sized barn he needed to shelter his creatures in safety and comfort,if he wanted to dig in and earn the money to put it up.There was no answer to that,and Mr.Leon didn't try to make any.Mostly,he said something to keep on talking,but sometimes he saw when he had better quit.
I was having a good time,myself.Of course when the fever was the worst,and when I never had been sick before,it was pretty bad,but as soon as I could breathe all right,there was no pain to speak of,and every one was so good to me.I could have Bobby on the footboard of my bed as long as I wanted him,and he would crow whenever I told him to.I kept Grace Greenwood beside me,and spoiled her dress making her take some of each dose of medicine I did,but Shelley wrote that she was saving goods and she would make her another as soon as she came home.I made mother put red flannel on Grace's chest and around her neck,until I could hardly find her mouth when she had to take her medicine,but she swallowed it down all right,or she got her nose held,until she did.She was not nearly so sick as I was,though.We both grew better together,and,when Dr.Fenner brought me candy,she had her share.
When I began to get well it was lovely.Such toast,chicken broth,and squirrels,as mother always had.I even got the chicken liver,oranges,and all of them gave me everything they had that I wanted--I must almost have died to make them act like that!
Laddie and father would take me up wrapped in blankets and hold me to rest my back.Father would rock me and sing about "Young Johnny,"just as he had when I was little.We always laughed at it,we knew it was a fool song,but we liked it.The tune was smooth and sleepy-like and the words went:
"One day young Johnny,he did go,Way down in the meadow for to mow.
Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!
He scarce had mowed twice round the field,When a pesky sarpent bit him on the heel,Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!
He threw the scythe upon the ground,An'shut his eyes,and looked all round,Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!
He took the sarpent in his hand,And then ran home to Molly Bland,Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!
O Molly dear,and don't you see,This pesky sarpent that bit me?
Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!
O Johnny dear,why did you go,Way down in the meadow fot to mow?
Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!
O Molly dear,I thought you knowed 'Twas daddy's grass,and it must be mowed,Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-n an-incty,noddy O!
Now all young men a warning take,And don't get bit by a rattlesnake.
Li-tu-di-nan-incty,tu-di-nan-incty,noddy O!"All of them told me stories,read to me,and Frank,one of my big gone-away brothers,sent me the prettiest little book.It had a green cover with gold on the back,and it was full of stories and poems,not so very hard,because I could read every one of them,with help on a few words.The piece I liked best was poetry.If it hadn't been for that,I'm afraid,I was having such a good time,I'd have lain there until I forgot how to walk,with all of them trying to see who could be nicest to me.The ones who really could,were Laddie and the Princess,except mother.
Laddie lifted me most carefully,the Princess told the best stories,but after all,if the burning and choking grew so bad I could scarcely stand it,mother could lay her hand on my head and say,"Poor child,"in a way that made me work to keep on breathing.Maybe I only THOUGHT I loved Laddie best.I guess if I had been forced to take my choice when I had the fever,I'd have stuck pretty tight to mother.Even Dr.Fenner said if I pulled through she'd have to make me.I might have been lying there yet,if it hadn't been for the book Frank sent me,with the poetry piece in it.It began:
"Somewhere on a sunny bank,buttercups are bright,Somewhere 'mid the frozen grass,peeps the daisy white."I read that so often I could repeat it quite as well with the book shut as open,and every time I read it,I wanted outdoors worse.In one place it ran:
"Welcome,yellow buttercups,welcome daisies white,Ye are in my spirit visioned a delight.
Coming in the springtime of sunny hours to tell,Speaking to our hearts of Him who doeth all things well."That piece helped me out of bed,and the blue gander screaming opened the door.It was funny about it too.I don't know WHY it worked on me that way;it just kept singing in my heart all day,and I could shut my eyes and go to sleep seeing buttercups in a gold sheet all over our Big Hill,although there never was a single one there;and meadows full of daisies,which were things father said were a pest he couldn't tolerate,because they spread so,and he grubbed up every one he found.Yet that piece filled our meadow until I imagined I could roll on daisies.They might be a pest to farmers,but sheets of them were pretty good if you were burning with fever.Between the buttercups and the daisies I left the bed with a light head and wobbly legs.
