"
"Jest look here a minute, mother."
Deborah bent her head impatiently, and Caleb whispered. "No, he
can't; I told him he couldn't," she said aloud, and passed on into
the pantry.
Caleb looked over at Ephraim with piteous and helpless sympathy.
"Never you mind, sonny," he said, cautiously.
"She--makes--" began Ephraim with a responsive plaint; but his mother
came out of the pantry, and he stopped short. Caleb dropped a pared
apple noisily into the pan.
"You'll dent that pan, father, if you fling the apples in that way,"
said Deborah. She had a thick silver spoon, and she measured out a
dose of the medicine for Ephraim. She approached him, extending the
spoon carefully. "Open your mouth," commanded she.
"Oh, mother, I don't want to take it!"
"Open your mouth!"
"Oh, mother--I don't--want to--ta-ke it!"
"Now, sonny, I wouldn't mind takin' of it. It's real good medicine
that the doctor left you, an' father's payin' consid'able for it. The
doctor thinks it's goin' to make you well," said Caleb, who was
looking on anxiously.
"Open your mouth and _take_ it!" said Deborah, sternly. She presented
the spoon at Ephraim as if it were a bayonet and there were death at
the point.
"Oh, mother," whimpered Ephraim.
"Mebbe mother will let you have a little taste of lasses arter it, if
you take it real good," ventured Caleb.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224