"No danger, mother dear, of your ever being like Mrs. White," said Mercy,
with an incautious emphasis, which, however, escaped Mrs. Carr's
recognition.

"Why, how can you be so sure I mightn't ever get into jest so bad a way,
child? There's none of us can say what diseases we're likely to hev or
not to hev. Now there's never been a case o' lung trouble in our family
afore mine, not 's fur back 's anybody kin trace it out; 'n' there's been
two cancers to my own knowledge; 'n' I allus hed a most awful dread o'
gettin' a cancer. There ain't no death like thet. There wuz my mother's
half-sister, Keziah,--she that married Elder Swift for her second husband.
She died o' cancer; an' her oldest boy by her first husband he hed it in
his face awful. But he held on ter life 's ef he couldn't say die, nohow;
and I tell yer, Mercy, it wuz a sight nobody'd ever forget, to see him
goin' round the street with one side o' his face all bound up, and his
well eye a rolling round, a-doin' the work o' two. He got so he couldn't
see at all out o' either eye afore he died, 'n' you could hear his
screeches way to our house. There wouldn't no laudalum stop the pain a
mite."

"Oh, mother! don't! don't!" exclaimed Mercy. "It is too dreadful to talk
about. I can't bear to think that any human being has ever suffered so.
Please don't ever speak of cancers again."

Mrs. Carr looked puzzled and a little vexed, as she answered, "Well, I
reckon they've got to be talked about a good deal, fust and last, 's long
's there's so many dies on 'em. But I don't know 's you 'n' I've got any
call to dwell on 'em much. You've got dreadful quick feelin's, Mercy,
ain't you? You allus was orful feelin' for everybody when you wuz little,