There was one person who had firm faith in the genuineness of all Mrs. Moll's maladies, and that person was her patient and affectionate husband, Mr. Pliny Moll. "What my Becky has endoored no one but me and her knows," he often said, earnestly. "Many an' a-many's the time I've set by her sick bedside an' said to myself, Is she a-breathin' or ain't she a-breathin'? an' I've.riz to my feet thinkin' I was a widow man this time—yes, sir. An' ag'in when she's been sittin' right in her chair I've looked at her an' said, 'You dead, Becky Moll?' an' when she'd say, so feeble like, I ain't quite, Pliny,' I've said to myself, 'Well, it won't be long 'fore you will be, Becky Moll, if you ain't better right forthwith an' faster!'" 6 As they kept no servant, great domestic confusion resulted when, as was frequently the case, Mrs. Moll had to be almost carried to bed from the breakfast table, leaving Mr. Moll to wash the dishes and attend to other domestic duties. But Mr. Moll made no complaint. "Poor Becky! Poor Becky! it's a sight harder on her than it is on me. "I shall never get up again, Pliny, I'm done fer,” she said to her husband, one day. "I don't seem to have the first mite of stren'th, an' I've a kind of a feelin' of goneness all the time. There's somethin' the matter of my back an' chist, an' it ain't long I'll be a burden to you." Old Doctor Philbrick was called. He seemed unable to understand the case of Mrs. Moll, but told her anxious husband that he'd "have her around in 66 a few days." "No, you won't," said Mrs. Moll, resolutely. Pliny might as well be made to understand the truth, doctor, an' it can't be kept from me!" Doctor Philbrick did not have Mrs. Moll around as he predicted. He came again and again, and seemed at last to be greatly puzzled over the case. "Seems as though she'd ought to git some stren'th," said Pliny to the doctor. "Her appetite ain't failed her yet; she eats more'n I do- Plin Moll, that ain't so!" cried his wife, indignantly. "Doctor, it gives me pain to swallow anything at all, and I don't eat enough to keep a bird alive." An elderly relative of Mr. Moll's called "Aunt 'Cindy" had by this time been installed as housekeeper and nurse to Mrs. Moll, who steadily grew worse, and now gave daily instructions as to how her funeral should be conducted, and what Pliny should do when she was gone. "You shan't go 'long as anything kin be done fer you that ain't been done. got to be a consultation over you, Becky." An' there's "It won't do any good. All the doctors in creation couldn't tell what's the matter of me. It's one of them cases the medical perfession ain't got up to yet, and there ain't no cure for it." Nevertheless, Mr. Moll determined to have a consultation. "I've done all I can do, Mr. Moll," said Doctor Philbrick, "I've bled her and blistered her and poulticed her, and given her a great deal and a great variety of medicine, and yet she is no better. I really think there should be a consultation." So Doctor Peevy and Doctor Hobbson were called in. "You've bled her, I reckon?" said Doctor Peevy. "Yes, half dozen times." "And blistered her?" asked Doctor Hobbson. "Yes, yes; time and again." Mrs. Moll seemed to enjoy the prospect of a consultation. "I know that forty dozen consultations wouldn't cure me. I've had so many diseases my system is all wore out and I ain't a mite o' stren'th left. I've endoored all one pore human frame kin endoor, and I'm convinced that I've got an' incurable complaint now. My grandmother's aunt lay in bed two years, just as I'm doin', 'fore she died, and Pliny had a second cousin go off jist as I'm goin', and nobody knowed what ailded him. It runs in the family and there's no use fightin' ag'in it. If I live through the consultation it's 'bout all I expect to do." "Please put out your tongue, ma'am," said Doctor Peevy, while Doctor Hobbson felt her pulse. Then Mrs. Moll was put through such a long cate chism of questions, and subjected to such a thumping of the chest and pounding of the back that her "feeble stren'th" was subjected to a severe strain. The examination of the patient lasted for a full hour, and then the trio of physicians withdrew to the orchard a short distance from the house, to consult together. No sooner were the doctors out of the house than Mrs. Moll called Aunt 'Cindy. "Where's Pliny?" "I see him goin' out toward the medder lot when the doctors come," replied Aunt 'Cindy. “He seemed to be too worrited and uneasy to stay in the house while this here powwow was goin' on." "Pore man!" said Mrs. Moll. "It'll be hard on him to give me up, but he's got it to do. My stren'th is goin' faster every day. I wish you'd tell Pliny I want him, and then I'd like you to make me some b'iled apple dumplin's and b'ile me a piece of cabbage. I'm fagged out I've got to have somethin' for dinner." There stood in the meadow lot a solitary oak tree, to the shade of which Pliny always withdrew when he was in the mood for solitary reflection. "I'm afeered they'll do her no good," he said, with his handkerchief to his eyes as he lay under the branches of the tree. "Nothing but a maracle will help Becky, now, and the age of maracles is gone. Poor Becky!" and little Mr. Moll was weeping softly in his red cotton handkerchief when Aunt 'Cindy found him. "Well, Plin Moll, you ain't bellerin'? What for? If there's anything to cry fer I ain't seen it nor yit heerd it!""O, 'Cindy! What do they say 'bout Becky? Has she lived through it?" "Well, she's alive enough to want cabbage and dumplin's for dinner, so I reckon there's a little vitiality left. The doctors are powwowin' out in the orchard, and Becky wants you. You'd better come right in, and if I was you, Plin Moll, I'd-for the land's sake! the house is on fire, as sure as I'm a livin' woman!" Mr. Moll rose to his feet with a bound, and ran madly after the fleeing Aunt 'Cindy. They met the doctors at the back gate, and all ran into the house, Mr. Moll crying out: "She'll be scared and burned to death! Git Becky out first thing! We're comin', Becky! Keep ca'm-we'll save you! The whole party rushed into the front hall of the house, and there they beheld a singular and unexpected sight. It was Mrs. Moll half-way downstairs with a huge feather-bed on her back! Becky Moll! Why, Becky, you'll "Now don't you lose your wits at this time when you need 'em the most, Pliny," said Mrs. Moll, sharply. "I'll manage this feather-bed, and you go up and begin throwin' things out of the winders. Don't you forgit my black silk dress. You doctors better pull up the carpets, and 'Cindy, you git my gold band chany tea-set out all right. I'll come back and 'tend to my silver spoons and forks soon as I get this new feather-bed out. Fly around, all of you! There ain't no time to lose! Get my winter cloak, Pliny, it's bran'-new, and it's got to do me five years yit! Here, Doctor Philbrick, you and Doctor Peevy carry out the parlor sofy! 'Cindy, 'Cindy, fly around! Get ev'rything out of the pantry!" Mrs. Moll had been the last to leave the burning building. She came rushing out with-a big blue-edged platter in one hand, a pewter teapot in the other. Carrying them to a place of safety, she climbed over the fence and dropped down on the feather-bed, saying, as she did so: Pliny, bring me a quilt or something to throw over me! I look scand'lous! I'm afeerd this'll give me an awful back-set! Well, Doctor Philbrick, what do you make out is the matter of me?" 66 "There ain't nothing the matter of you, Becky Moll; that's what there ain't! Ain't that so, Doctor Peevy?" "Yes, it is, Hobbson thinks so, too, don't you, Hobbson?" "Of course I do!" replied Doctor Hobbson. This was far from the conclusion at which the learned doctors had arrived while in the orchard; but the opinions of the most learned men are subject to change. "I should think you'd be ashamed to talk to a dyin' woman like that!" The household goods were carried into a small but quite comfortable old house across the road. The neighbors lent their assistance in arranging the furniture, and by night Mr. and Mrs. Moll found themselves comfortably installed in their old home, with most of their effects around them. Then Aunt 'Cindy and Mr. Moll held a consultation. "See here, Pliny; I'm goin' home. I ain't goin' to stay here any longer doing for a woman that's as well as I am, if she'd only think so. I'm a believer in the mind cure for Becky; for if she only thought she was well she'd be well." In fifteen minutes she was gone. Mr. Moll rose, and went into the house and into the bedroom in which Mrs. Moll was lying. 66 Becky, Aunt 'Cindy's gone, and I reckon if you want any supper to-night you'll have to git up and git it. I'm goin' out to milk the cows now, and I wish you'd have some flannel cakes for supper when I come in." When she heard Pliny speak now, she knew that he meant all he said. She herself was very hungry after her exertion at the fire, and Pliny found her frying eggs and cakes, and making an appetizing cup of coffee when he came in with his pail of foamy milk. That was the last of her "incurable malady," and the last of many of her other diseases. She died of old age twenty-five years later. Harbour, in Youths' Companion. THE DOLLS' TEA PARTY. The dolls had a tea party; wasn't it fun? |