TOM'S ILLNESS.
A FEW days after the incident of the torn jacket, Tom woke one morning
feeling heavy and drowsy, and when he got downstairs, he complained
of having a headache and sore throat. He could not eat his breakfast,
and his mother told him he had better go back to bed again, as he had
evidently caught a severe cold.
"You have got your feet wet, I expect, and not changed your boots as
soon as you came home," said Mrs. Winn, "although I have often heard
Elsie tell you to do it."
There had been a long continuance of wet weather, and Bobbie and baby
had both been poorly from colds and coughs, and so Mrs. Winn was not in
the least alarmed about Tom.
He was asleep at dinner time when his mother went to his room to see
what he would have, but soon after she went back to her work, he called
to Elsie to bring him some water.
"I am so thirsty," he said, when his sister took him some drink.
"How is your head now, Tom?" she asked, for she was very fond of her
brother, although he did give her so much trouble sometimes.
"Feels like a pumpkin," said the boy as he nestled down in the pillow
again.
"Shall I make you a cup of tea presently?" said Elsie. "Perhaps that
will do you good."
"Perhaps it will," murmured the boy, in a sleepy tone, as he turned his
head from the light.
Elsie generally took her mother a cup of tea to the work-room, about
three o'clock, and when she had done this, she poured out a cup for
Tom, and cut a thin slice of bread and butter, and took both up to him.
He was asleep, but tossing his arms about restlessly, and rolling his
head on the pillow, and moaning so dolefully, that as soon as he had
drank the tea, Elsie went off in a fright to tell her mother that she
thought Tom must be very ill.
"It is a feverish cold he has got, and he may have to lie in bed two or
three days," said Mrs. Winn, who was not alarmed at trifles, and had
often seen Tom suffering from a chill.
She was too busy to go and see Tom again at once, but at tea time, she
took him a cup of tea and another slice of thin bread and butter.
Tom was moaning restlessly in his sleep.
"Tom, dear, wake up and have your tea," said his mother, laying her
hand on his forehead to rouse him.
Tom opened his eyes, and seized eagerly upon the tea to drink, but he
did not want anything to eat, and was soon as drowsy as ever.
Mrs. Winn went back to the work-room after she had had her own tea,
feeling vaguely uneasy about Tom. It might be only a feverish cold,
she argued with herself, but she wished he did not roll his head so
much when he was asleep, for she began to fear that it might mean
a more serious illness than a simple cold. If she did not have to
practice such strict economy, she would have sent for a doctor at once;
but doctors' bills were a terror to her, and she sent Elsie to the
chemist's for some medicine, which she gave him in the course of the
evening, hoping he would be a good deal better in the morning.
The medicine certainly seemed to relieve his head, after he had taken
it a few hours, but instead of being able to get up the next morning,
as his mother had hoped, Tom was most unmistakably very ill when she
went to see him, and she decided to send for the doctor without further
delay.
So when Jane Holmes came at nine o'clock, Mrs. Winn asked her to go and
fetch Dr. Weston to see Tom as soon as he possibly could. And when she
came back, she sent her to the work-room, to wait there until after the
doctor had been.
Poor woman! She did not tell even Elsie what she feared was ailing Tom.
She could only hope that the doctor would say she was quite mistaken,
and that the symptoms were only those of a feverish cold.
But her heart almost died within her when the doctor, after examining
Tom, turned to her and said, "Where has he been, Mrs. Winn?"
"He goes to school, doctor," she said in a faint voice.
"Has he been playing in Sadler Street? Do any of his friends or
school-fellows live in that street?" asked the doctor.
"He has no business to go near the street, but I cannot say that he has
not, for he has been rather late coming home from school lately."
"The reason I asked was this, they have scarlet fever in that
neighbourhood rather badly just now, and this looks like another case,
and I have heard of no other at this end of the town."
"Oh, sir!" was all the poor woman could utter for a minute or two. For
scarlet fever would mean the ruin of her business, and might possibly
bring them all to beggary before it had run its course.
The doctor understood the exclamation, and the look of dismay in the
widow's face as she turned to look at Tom.
"I am very sorry, Mrs. Winn, but I am afraid there is very little doubt
that he has taken the disease from somebody. Now the question is, what
are you to do about your work?"
For the doctor knew all about the dressmaking, and had recommended her
to his wife.
"I must send and let the people know, of course," said the poor woman.
And then she burst into tears, for this would mean that she could not
earn a penny for weeks, or possibly even months.
"Yes, the work you have in the house must be sent back at once," said
the doctor; "but I should like you to find out, if you could, where
he has been lately, for I have not heard of any other case of scarlet
fever in this neighbourhood; and I think, if you are careful to follow
my directions, we may keep it from spreading further; or would you like
him sent to the hospital?" suddenly added the doctor.
"Oh, no, no! I must nurse him myself, and trust in God to provide for
us afterwards," said Mrs. Winn, with another sob, and then she forced
back her tears, and gave all her attention to the doctor's directions
for isolating Tom from the rest, and what she was to do before she went
to the work-room to send back the work she had in the house by Jane
Holmes.
Tom's head was aching, and he still felt sleepy, but he could
understand enough of what had been said by the doctor to know that in
his folly and wilfulness, he had brought a great calamity upon his
mother and sister. And he had promised his father a few days before he
died, that he would do all he could to help them, and this was how he
had fulfilled his promise.
He did not say a word to his mother, for as soon as the doctor had
gone, she went to change her dress, that she might send the work back,
and tell Jane Holmes that there would be nothing for her to do until
Tom got better. But while his mother was away, Tom tried to control
his thoughts that he might be able to tell her that he had been with
Jack Bond to Sadler Street several times lately, although Mr. Potter
had told them at the scholarship class to avoid going there, as he had
heard that there were cases of scarlet fever in that neighbourhood.
But the very effort to think this out, so as to be able to tell his
mother all about it, seemed to make his head ache and throb worse than
ever, so that by the time she came back, he could only utter a wild cry
of "Mother! Mother!" And then he muttered something about a man driving
nails in his head, when he meant to say that he went to see Jack make a
new hutch for his rabbits.
Mrs. Winn did what she could to soothe Tom's restlessness. But it
soon became evident that he was growing rapidly worse, for during the
afternoon, he became quite delirious, and the doctor had to be sent for
again.
"What does he mean about the nails in his head making rabbit hutches?"
asked the doctor, after listening to Tom's wild talk. "Has he been
making a rabbit hutch lately, that it should seem to trouble him so
much?"
"No; he has no rabbits to make a hutch for; but all his talk has been
about that."
"Yes, it seems to be troubling him a good deal, too," said the doctor;
"I wish you could find out all about it, and whether he has been to
Sadler Street lately."
"Yes, I will," said Mrs. Winn, for she thought if she could only
discover what was the cause of Tom's evident distress, she might be the
better able to comfort him and relieve it.
So as soon as the doctor had gone she changed her dress, washed her
face and hands in disinfectant, that she might not carry the disorder
to anyone else, and then went to the school to see the master, and
learn, if possible, what had caused Tom's illness.
Mr. Potter came forward as soon as he saw who his visitor was. "You
have come to see me about your son, of course, Mrs. Winn, but I really
cannot take him back into the scholarship class. He is doing no good to
himself in it, but simply hindering the boys who want to—" then seeing
the look of wondering surprise in his visitor's face, he said, "I
understood it was Mrs. Winn who wished to see me."
"Yes, I am Mrs. Winn; but I do not understand—I have come to tell you
that my eon is very ill—dangerously ill, I am afraid, and the doctor
thought you might be able to enlighten us as to where he has caught it,
for it seems to be scarlet fever. Have you heard of any other boys in
the school having it?" asked the widow.
"Yes, there have been several cases among the boys who live in Sadler
Street, so that for the sake of the other scholars, and under the
advice of the doctor, I have sent to all the parents of children living
there to say that they must not come to school until the sickness is
over."
"Then Tom could not have caught it in that way," said the widow.
"Not unless he went to Sadler Street for anything, and then he might,"
said the master. "You see, he was very intimate with a boy who lived
there, and he may have persuaded him to go home with him for something.
I believe he went there to help him to make a rabbit hutch when he
played truant from the class, for I have heard from another lad who met
him that he was on his way here in the company of Bond, but he never
appeared, and that was what decided me to take the step I did, and tell
him that he could not come to the class again."
"When was he told that?" asked the widow, with a sigh. For this was
a trouble she had not expected, and it did but increase her anxiety
concerning Tom.
"I told him myself the last day he was at school. He was not here
yesterday all day."
"No; he was taken ill yesterday morning, and could not get up. You
think he may have gone to this Sadler Street?" she added.
"I think it is very possible he went there, although I warned all
the school not to go through that street on their way home, if they
could avoid it. A few months ago I should have said that Tom would not
have disobeyed that order, but lately he has given us a good deal of
trouble, and it is just possible that his companion Bond persuaded him
to go there in spite of all I said. If you will wait a minute, I will
ask some of the boys, before they leave, if they know anything about
it;" and he went at once to the room where Tom's class was preparing to
go home.
Up went half a dozen hands as he had asked the question.
"Please, sir, Winn and Bond were making a rabbit hutch together in
Bond's yard. Tom told me, and asked me to go and see it."
"Did you go?" asked the master.
"No, sir. You had told us to keep away from Sadler Street, unless we
wanted to be ill. Bond said you had a spite against Sadler Street, and
him too, and that's why you had told us not to go!"
"Very well, that will do, Wicks. Winn believed Bond, it seems, and went
there with him, and he is dangerously ill his mother tells me."
Silence fell upon the class as the boys looked one at the other, but
they each mentally resolved to take the master's word for the future.
He went back and told Mrs. Winn that it was no secret in the school
that Tom had been building a rabbit hutch with his friend, and the
probability was that he had gone there frequently, and not simply once
or twice. He said what he could to comfort the poor woman, for he could
see she was terribly distressed over what she had heard concerning Tom.
On her way back, she called to tell the doctor what she had heard at
the school, and how, in spite of the master's warning, Tom must have
gone to the forbidden street.
"Ah! And it is this disobedience that is troubling him, and causing the
brain mischief. I am glad you have found this out, Mrs. Winn, but I am
afraid it will make our work the harder; and he will suffer a good deal
more in his head from this cause than from the fever alone, for the one
will complicate the other, and he will need the most careful nursing
and watching."
The widow went home sadly depressed and disheartened. She did not mind
how hard she worked for her children; but to work hard as she had done,
and then learn that, through her boy's wilfulness and folly, she had
laboured almost in vain, was bitter indeed, and she could not help
telling Elsie something of what she felt.
Poor Elsie could not bear to feel angry with her brother, now he was so
ill, but she turned her wrath upon Jack Bond. "It is that wicked boy,
mother, not our Tom who is to blame," protested Elsie.
"But, my dear, Tom is to blame, for he ought to have known better than
to go near the street after the master had warned the boys not to do
so."
She did not say a word to Elsie about the other news she had heard at
the school. She could not talk of Tom's disgrace even to Elsie just
now; she felt it too keenly. That her boy should be expelled from a
class they had all thought it an honour that he should enter, was a
very great disgrace she thought, and at least she would spare Elsie the
bitterness of this knowledge if she possibly could.
She went back to the sick-room, and found Tom moaning, and tossing, and
crying out about the nails in his head; and the neighbour who had come
in to stay with him while she went out, told her he had continued these
moanings all the time she was gone.
"I tried to make him understand that we were not putting nails into his
head," said the old lady.
But Mrs. Winn knew that all such efforts were useless just now, and
that Tom would have to bear as best he could the terrible punishment
his own folly and disobedience had brought upon him.
Poor Tom felt as though he was far away from everybody who could help
him, and that the man with the nails would drive them into his head,
do what he would to get away from him, while his heart-breaking cry
of "Mother! Mother!" made his mother's heart ache. For when trying to
soothe him, he would roughly push her away, and throw himself to the
other side of the bed.
As the days went on, poor Tom grew worse, until his mother was almost
worn out with sleeplessness and nursing, while Elsie downstairs was
scarcely less anxious than her mother, for the isolation in which they
had to live added to the distress and discomfort.
Elsie had always been very popular among her school-fellows, and
the circumstances under which she had been compelled to give up her
scholarship had rather added to her popularity, so that scarcely a day
passed but one girl friend or the other came to see her, or bring her
a book to read. But now, with the dreaded scarlet fever in the house,
people were obliged to stay away, and no one but the old lady next
door, who would not be kept out, ever came near them.
This was hard upon Elsie, and sometimes she thought this one or that
might call and ask how Tom was getting on, for the bedroom where he
lay was securely isolated from the rest of the house, lest she or the
little ones should catch the infection. So that, as she reasoned, it
was not likely any one would catch it standing at the street door for a
minute.
But still they did not come, and Elsie, shut away from her mother and
the sick-room, with no society but Bobbie and baby, found the days very
long and dreary, and it was hardly surprising that she grew pale and
peevish. For although she took the children out for a walk every fine
day, friends were careful, if they met her, to nod, and, after asking
how Tom was, hurry on as though she had got scarlet fever as well as
her brother.
But for the neighbourly old lady next door, Mrs. Winn must have broken
down under the strain, but she insisted upon coming to sit with Tom
every afternoon, while his mother had an hour's rest, and went for
ten minutes' walk in the open air. This old lady had been an hospital
nurse, and insisted that some of these wise rules should be followed by
the widow. And as Tom was always more quiet when she nursed him, Mrs.
Winn could not but follow her advice, and was very thankful for her
help.
But for her willingness to learn of one who knew more about sickness
than she did, her strength would scarcely have held out, for Tom's
illness was prolonged until the doctor feared that his strength would
be exhausted before the rallying point was reached, and he said a word
or two to Mrs. Winn, lest, if the disorder should take an unfavourable
turn, it should prove too great a shock to her already over-strained
nerves.
"Oh, doctor, save him!" she implored. "I know my poor boy has something
on his mind he wants to tell me. Save him for this!" she added, with a
burst of tears.
"You know I will do all that is possible," said the doctor; "and I hope
his strength will yet hold out. We must hope for the best," he added,
"and watch for the first chance he may have of being able to speak, and
tell us what is troubling him."
"I am sure he wants to tell me something," said poor Mrs. Winn.
And in this, her mother's instinct was correct, for, in his delirium,
Tom was trying, trying, always trying to tell his mother how sorry he
was for vexing Elsie and disobeying his schoolmaster. But now, when
"by-and-bye" had come, he could not speak, did not know what he wanted
to say, or whether his mother was near to hear him.
Never trust the promises of "by-and-bye," boys. Seize the present
moment to do your duty, whatever it may be, for fear you should never
have a chance of doing it later on.