GETTING WELL.
Oscar had reason to remember the first time he went down stairs, after
his fit of sickness. It was in the night-time. He awoke, feeling
quite hungry; for he was yet kept on a spare diet, which was far from
satisfying the cravings of his appetite. He was alone in his room, and
all the rest of the family were asleep. A lamp was burning dimly in
the fire-place of his chamber, and the door that led into his mother's
room was open, that she might be ready, at the least sound of alarm.
After thinking the matter over a few minutes, and satisfying himself
that no one in the house was awake, he determined to go down stairs in
quest of something to eat.
"What is the use of starving a fellow to death, because he has been
sick!" he said to himself. "I might as well die one way as another;
and if there 's anything to eat in the house, I'm bound to have it. I
've lived on slops and toasted bread three weeks, and I can't stand it
any longer."
He accordingly got up, and taking the lamp, stole very cautiously into
the entry, and down stairs, having nothing but his night-clothes upon
him. The snapping of the stairs, under his tread, was the only noise
that was heard, and this did not awake any of the household. He
proceeded at once to the kitchen closet, and commenced helping himself
with a free hand to its contents. He began upon a dish of corned beef
and vegetables, from which he partook quite liberally. He then hastily
swallowed a piece of mince-pie, and a slice or two of cake, when, the
night air beginning to feel chilly, he hurried back to bed. This last
operation was by no means so easy as he had imagined it would be. His
knees were very weak and "shaky," and it seemed as though they could
not support him, when he undertook to go up stairs. He was alarmed,
and would have given up the attempt, and called for help, but for the
dread of being caught in such a flagrant act of disobedience. So he
persisted in his efforts, and finally reached his chamber, quite
exhausted.
After a heavy and troubled sleep, Oscar awoke in the morning, feeling
quite wretchedly. As soon as his mother entered the room, her quick
eye detected the unfavorable change; but he did not seem inclined to
complain much of his feelings, and appeared averse to conversing about
them. She ascertained, however, after awhile, that Oscar was more
feverish than he had been, that he had a severe pain in his chest, and
that his cough was worse. Many were the surmises thrown out, by his
father and mother, as to the probable cause of this change in his
symptoms; but as for himself, he seemed entirely at a loss to account
for the mystery, and left them to form their own conjectures.
The doctor, who now visited Oscar only two or three times a week, was
sent for after breakfast. When he arrived, he questioned Mrs. Preston
very closely as to the manner in which the patient had been treated,
and he also addressed many inquiries to Oscar; but he learned nothing
from either that could account for the renewed attack of fever. He sat
a few moments, in a thoughtful mood, seemingly at a loss what to say,
when Oscar, who had complained much of nausea for the last half hour,
began to show symptoms of vomiting. A basin was brought, and the
contents of his stomach were quickly discharged into it.
The mystery was now explained. Mrs. Preston looked on in silent
astonishment, while the doctor could hardly repress his anger at this
exhibition of the contents of his patient's stomach. There were great
pieces of unmasticated meat and potato, mixed up with a porridge of
half-dissolved pie and cake, the whole forming a medley of hearty and
indigestible substances, that would have taxed the strong stomach of a
healthy man.
"Well," said the doctor, turning to Mrs. Preston, when Oscar got
through, "what does all this mean?"
"I know not; you must ask him," replied Mrs. Preston.
The same question, put to Oscar, brought from him a reluctant
confession of the last night's folly. When he had concluded, the
doctor arose, and taking his hand, said:
"I will bid you good-bye. It's of no use for me to attend upon you any
longer, if you abuse my confidence in this way. If you want to kill
yourself I won't stand in your way. Good morning."
Before Oscar recovered from his astonishment, the doctor had reached
the entry. Addressing his mother who was following him, he said:
"Call him back, mother--tell him I won't do so again--call him back."
The doctor heard the message, and returned.
"I will consent to prescribe for you only on one condition," he said;
"and that is, that you will agree to do precisely as I tell you to.
You must take the medicines I order, and eat only what I tell you to,
or I will have nothing more to do with you. Do you agree to that?"
"Yes, sir," replied Oscar.
The doctor resumed his seat, and felt the patient's pulse. He had not
yet got entirely over his irritation, and, turning to Mrs. Preston, he
remarked:
"If the patient was a little stronger, my first prescription would be a
smart external application of birch or ratan; but, as it is, we shall
have to omit that for the present. You need not think you will escape
punishment, however," he continued, turning to Oscar. "This scrape of
yours will put you back more than one week and if you are not careful
you may never get your health again. You may trifle with the doctor,
but you can't trifle with the lung fever."
The doctor then gave directions as to Oscar's diet and medicine, and
departed, but not until he had again warned him against leaving the
room without his mother's consent, or eating any articles forbidden by
her.
Oscar found no opportunity after this to evade the commands of the
doctor, had he been so disposed, for some one was always with him by
day and night. Still, his recovery seemed to have been checked very
much by his relapse, and the doctor's skill was taxed pretty severely
to bring the fever to a favorable termination. As it was, his attempt
was not fully successful; for the fever, in spite of all he could do,
left behind it a cough, and a weakness of the lungs, which gave Oscar's
parents no little alarm at times.
For a fortnight after his midnight supper, Oscar allowed his mother and
the doctor to do just as they pleased with him. He yielded to their
wishes, and their orders were law to him. At the end of that time the
doctor discontinued his regular visits. Oscar was now able to go
out-doors a little in very pleasant weather; but his cough rendered
prudence still very necessary. His confinement, however, was daily
growing more irksome, and sometimes he disregarded the positive
commands of his parents by going out when the weather was unsuitable.
One morning, a menagerie, or collection of wild beasts, was to enter
the city in grand procession. There were to be several elephants and
camels on foot, besides hundreds of other animals (invisible) in
carriages. There was also to be a mammoth gilt chariot, filled with
musicians, and drawn by ever so many horses. The procession was to
pass very near the street where Oscar lived, and he intended to go and
see it; but when the morning came, there was a cold, drizzling rain,
with an uncomfortable east wind, and his mother told him he must not
think of going out. He did think of it, however, and not only thought
of it, but went. While his mother was up stairs, he quietly slipped
out, and went to the corner the procession was expected to pass. There
he waited about an hour, until he became thoroughly wet and chilled,
and then returned home, without seeing the sight; for the showmen had
shortened their intended route on account of the storm. He entered the
house, vexed by his disappointment and the uncomfortable plight he was
in; and when his mother mildly reproved him for his conduct, and
entreated him to be more careful of himself, he only replied that he
did not wish to live, if he must be shut up in the house all the time.
This act of imprudence and disobedience made him a close prisoner in
the house for several days, besides causing him no little suffering.
Oscar employed much of his leisure time in reading, during his
confinement in-doors. His acquaintances lent him many interesting
books, with which he beguiled the weary hours. One day, happening to
think of a volume belonging to his classmate, Benjamin Wright, which he
thought he should like to read, he sent word by Ralph that he wished to
borrow it. The next morning Benjamin brought it to school, and Ralph
took it home to Oscar. On removing the paper in which it was wrapped
up, a letter dropped out, which Oscar found was directed to himself.
He opened it, and a smile lit up his countenance as he glanced over the
sheet, which was filled up with drawings and writing of an amusing
character. Benjamin was quite famous among the boys for the skill and
facility with which he made sketches, and in this letter he had given a
curious specimen of his artistic talent. The following is a copy of
this production:
DEAR OSCAR:
I am sorry to hear you 're in weakness and pain,
And I send you a book to beguile your tired brain;
I send also some puzzles, to stir up your wit,
And tempt you to laugh, when you really don't feel like it one bit!
[Illustration: A Queer Name.]
What a queer name!
What do we all do when we first get into bed?
Why is swearing like an old coat?
What is that which is lengthened by being cut at both ends?
My first, if you do, you won't hit;
My second, if you do, you will have it;
My whole, if you do, you won't guess it.
[Illustration: The Double Face.]
Turn me over, pray.
A word there is, five syllables contains;
Take one away, no syllable remains.
What is that which is lower with a head than without one?
Who was the first whistler?
What tune did he whistle?
How do you swallow a door?
What is that which lives in winter, dies in summer, and
grows with its root upwards?
If you were to tumble out of the window, what would you fall against?
[Illustration: The Cat-Erect.]
Why is this like the Falls of Niagara?
If my puzzles are simple, and my pictures a fright,
Then just laugh at me, and it will all
B. WRIGHT.
This letter was the prime source of attraction to all the children, the
rest of the day; and its reception formed an era in Oscar's sick-day
experience, not easily to be forgotten. All the family, from Mr.
Preston down to little George, set themselves to work to guess out the
riddles; but in some of them, they found more than their match. To
Oscar, however, the letter was something more than a collection of
drawings and puzzles. It was a token of interest and sympathy from a
boy towards whom he had never manifested a very friendly spirit.
Benjamin's high standing in the school, both for scholarship and
behavior, had awakened in Oscar a secret feeling of jealousy or
resentment towards him. He was a poor boy, too, and this by no means
increased Oscar's respect for him. But now, Oscar began to feel
ashamed of all this; and as instances of his unkind treatment of his
generous classmate came up in remembrance, he wished he had the power
to blot them from existence. He determined thenceforth to "stand up"
for Benjamin, and began to plan some way of making a return for his
manifestation of good feeling.
Ella wanted to carry Benjamin's letter to school, to show to the girls,
but Oscar would not allow it to go out of his hands. She then begged
the privilege of copying it, to which he consented. She did the best
she could, no doubt, but her drawings probably did not quite do justice
to the subjects; for Oscar declared that her copy was more comical than
the original. She lent it to some of her schoolmates, one of whom was
roguish enough to show it to Benjamin himself! He laughed heartily at
the caricature; but thinking it was getting him rather more notoriety
than he wished, he put it in his pocket, and that was the end of it.
In consequence of his many acts of imprudence, Oscar got along very
slowly in his recovery. Yet he was daily growing more impatient of his
long confinement, and the utmost vigilance of his parents was necessary
to restrain him from doing himself harm. During stormy weather, which
was not rare at that season of the year, he was not allowed to go out,
and the time passed heavily with him. One rainy afternoon, as he was
sitting listlessly at a front window, watching for some object of
interest to pass, a coach stopped at the door, and his heart beat high
at the thought of his dulness being dispelled by the arrival of
"company." The driver opened the coach door, and out jumped a stout,
brown-faced man, whom Oscar at once recognized as his uncle, John
Preston, from Maine.
The arrival of Uncle John was soon heralded through the house, and a
warm greeting extended to him. He usually visited the city thrice a
year on business, and on such occasions made his brother's house his
stopping-place. He lived in the town of Brookdale, where he had a
family; but he was engaged in the lumber business, and generally spent
the winter months in the forests of Maine, with large gangs of loggers,
who were employed to cut down trees, and convey them to the banks of
the streams, where they were floated down to the mills in the spring
freshets. These forests are far from any settlement, and the
lumber-men live in log-huts, in a very independent and care-for-nobody
sort of way. Oscar had often heard his uncle describe their manner of
life, and, to him, there was something quite fascinating about it. He
thought he should like the logging business very much--all but the
_working_ part of it; he was afraid that would spoil the whole, for his
Uncle John always represented it as being pretty hard work.
Oscar had four cousins in Brookdale, the children of his Uncle John,
none of whom he had ever seen. He had many questions to ask about
them, in the course of which he expressed a wish that he might visit
them. His uncle replied that he should like to take him home with him,
and, as he was sick, he thought the journey might do him good. He
afterwards talked with Oscar's parents about the matter, and they
finally concluded to let him go, hoping that a few weeks in the country
would improve his health.
NOTE.--The following are the solutions of the puzzles, &c., in
Benjamin's letter, contained in this chapter. The first puzzle is the
name of Oscar Preston, enigmatically expressed. 2. Make an impression.
3. It is a bad habit. 4. A ditch. 5. Mistake. 6. Monosyllable. 7. A
pillow. 8. The wind. 9. "Over the hills and far away." 10. Bolt it.
11. An icicle. 12. Against your inclination. 13. It is a cataract
(cat erect).