you expect me to stay away on Christmas Eve, like some lonely old woman,
who never was nurse to any children at all, let alone two generations of
them? What are you thinking of, Doctor John?

I am thinking, _says_ FATHER _smiling_, that if you hadn't
come, we should have missed you dreadfully. But tell me, Nurse Mary, how
are you feeling?

Well, _answers_ NURSE MARY, to speak the truth, Doctor John, I
think you must give me some medicine.

Medicine? _cries_ MOTHER.

Are you sick, Nurse Mary? _asks_ POLLY.

Yes, Miss Polly, sick, and very sick, too, NURSE MARY _answers_.

But how? _asks_ FATHER. What's wrong? Where is the trouble?

First of all, in my back, Doctor John, _says_ NURSE MARY. Today,
after sweeping and scrubbing a little, and baking a Christmas cake, I
just ironed out a few pieces, my best cap and apron, and the likes of
that, and before I had finished, I give you word my back began to ache.
Now what do you make of it? And then, my joints--stiff! Yes, Dr. John,
stiff! How am I to do my work with stiff joints, I'd like to know?

I see, _says_ FATHER, _shaking his head._ This is a serious
matter. But cheer up, Nurse Mary; I believe I have the very thing that
will help you. _He opens his medicine case, which stands on the table,
and takes out a little bottle._ Here it is, _he says_, and let