Cousin Lucy's Conversations

Lucy did not know at all what the quinsy was; but her sickness did not seem to her to be any thing very bad; and so she agreed with her father that it was probably only the quinsy.

When the doctor came, he felt of Lucy’s pulse, and looked at her tongue, and listened to her breathing.

“Will she take ipecacuanha?” said the doctor to Lucy’s mother.

“She will take anything you prescribe, doctor,” said her father, in reply.

“Well, that’s clever,” said the doctor. “The old rule is, that the child that will take medicine is half cured already.”

So the doctor sat down at the table, and opened his saddle-bags, and took out a bottle filled with a yellowish powder, and began to take some out.

“Is it good medicine?” said Lucy, in a low voice, to her mother. She was now sitting in her mother’s lap, who was rocking her in a rocking-chair.

“Yes,” said the doctor; for he overheard Lucy’s question, and thought that he would answer it himself. “Yes, ipecacuanha is a very good medicine, – an excellent medicine.”

As he said this, he looked around, rather slyly, at Miss Anne and Lucy’s father.

“Then I shall like to take it,” said Lucy.

“He means,” said her mother, “that it is a good medicine to cure the sickness with; the taste of it is not good. It is a very disagreeable medicine to take.”

Lucy said nothing in reply to this, but she thought to herself, that she wished the doctors could find out some medicines that did not taste so bad.

Miss Anne received the medicine from the doctor, and prepared it in a spoon, with some water, for Lucy to take. Just before it was ready, the door opened, and Royal came in.

“Why, Royal,” said his mother, “how came you to get up?”

“I heard a noise, and I thought it was morning,” said Royal.

“Morning? no,” replied his mother; “it is midnight.”

“Midnight?” said Lucy. She was quite astonished. She did not recollect that she had ever been up at midnight before, in her life.

“Is Lucy sick?” said Royal.

“No, not very sick,” said Lucy.

Royal came and stood by the rocking-chair, and looked into Lucy’s face.

“I am sorry that you are sick,” said he. “Is there anything that I can do for you?”

Lucy hesitated a moment, and then her eye suddenly brightened up, and she said,

“Yes, Royal, – if you would only just be so good as to take my medicine for me.”

Royal laughed, and said, “O Lucy! I guess you are not very sick.”

In fact, Lucy was breathing pretty freely then, and there was nothing to indicate, particularly, that she was sick; unless when a paroxysm of coughing came on. Miss Anne brought her medicine to her in a great spoon, and Royal said that he presumed that the doctor would not let him take the medicine, but that, if she would take it, he would make all the faces for her.

Accordingly, while she was swallowing the medicine, she turned her eyes up towards Royal, who had stood back a little way, and she began to laugh a little at the strange grimaces which he was making. The laugh was, however, interrupted and spoiled by a universal shudder which came over her, produced by the taste of the ipecacuanha.

Immediately afterwards, Lucy’s mother said,

“Come, Royal; now I want you to go right back to bed again.”

“Well, mother, – only won’t you just let me stop a minute, to look out the door, and see how midnight looks?”

“Yes,” said she, “only run along.”

So Royal went away; and pretty soon the doctor went away too. He said that Lucy would be pretty sick for about an hour, and that after that he hoped that she would be better; and he left a small white powder in a little paper, which he said she might take after that time, and it would make her sleep well the rest of the night.

It was as the doctor had predicted. Lucy was quite sick for an hour, and her father and mother, and Miss Anne, all remained, and took care of her. After that, she began to be better. She breathed much more easily, and when she coughed she did not seem to be so very hoarse. Her mother was then going to carry her into her room; but Miss Anne begged them to let her stay where she was; for she said she wanted to take care of her herself.

“The doctor said he thought she would sleep quietly,” said Miss Anne; “and if she should not be so well, I will come and call you.”

“Very well,” said her mother, “we will do so. But first you may give her the powder.”

So Miss Anne took the white powder, and put it into some jelly, in a spoon; and when she had covered the powder up carefully with the jelly, she brought it to Lucy.

“Now I’ve got some good medicine for you,” said Miss Anne.

“I am glad it is good,” said Lucy.

“That is,” continued Miss Anne, “the jelly is good, and you will not taste the powder.”

Lucy took the jelly, and, after it, a little water; and then her mother put her into her trundle-bed. Her father and mother then bade her good night, and went away to their own room.

Miss Anne then set the chairs back in their places, and carried out all the things which had been used; and after she had got the room arranged and in order, she came to Lucy’s bedside to see if she was asleep. She was not asleep.

“Lucy,” said Miss Anne, “how do you feel now?”

“O, pretty well,” said Lucy; “at least, I am better.”

“Do you feel sleepy?”

“No,” said Lucy.

“Is there any thing you want?” asked Miss Anne.

“Why, no, – only, – I should like it, – only I don’t suppose you could very well, – but I should like it if you could hold me a little while, – and rock me.”

“O yes, I can,” said Miss Anne, “just as well as not.”

So Miss Anne took Lucy up from her bed, and wrapped a blanket about her, and sat down in her rocking-chair, to rock her. She rocked her a few minutes, and sang to her, until she thought she was asleep. Then she stopped singing, and she rocked slower and slower, until she gradually ceased.

A moment afterwards, Lucy said, in a mild and gentle voice,

“Miss Anne, is it midnight now?”