"Mortimer, don't sit there and catch your death of cold. Come to bed."

As I was stepping in she said:

"But wait a moment. Please give the child some more of the medicine."

Which I did. It was a medicine which made a child more or less lively;
so my wife made use of its waking interval to strip it and grease it all
over with the goose oil. I was soon asleep once more, but once more I
had to get up.

"Mortimer, I feel a draft. I feel it distinctly. There is nothing so
bad for this disease as a draft. Please move the crib in front of the
fire."

I did it; and collided with the rug again, which I threw in the fire.
Mrs. McWilliams sprang out of bed and rescued it and we had some words.
I had another trifling interval of sleep, and then got up, by request,
and constructed a flax-seed poultice. This was placed upon the child's
breast and left there to do its healing work.

A wood-fire is not a permanent thing. I got up every twenty minutes and
renewed ours, and this gave Mrs. McWilliams the opportunity to shorten
the times of giving the medicines by ten minutes, which was a great
satisfaction to her. Now and then, between times, I reorganized the
flax-seed poultices, and applied sinapisms and other sorts of blisters
where unoccupied places could be found upon the child. Well, toward
morning the wood gave out and my wife wanted me to go down cellar and get
some more. I said: