charm the palate, and the Story Girl bind captive the soul; but when pain and sickness wrung the brow it was Cecily who was the ministering angel. She made the writhing Dan go to bed. She made him swallow every available antidote which was recommended in "the doctor's book;" and she applied hot cloths to him until her faithful little hands were half scalded off.
There was no doubt that Dan was suffering intense pain. He moaned and writhed, and cried for his mother.
"Oh, isn't it dreadful!" said Felicity, wringing her hands as she walked the kitchen floor. "Oh, why doesn't the doctor come? I told Dan the bad berries were poison. But surely they can't kill people altogether."
"Pa's cousin died of eating something forty years ago," sobbed Sara Ray.
"Hold your tongue," said Peter in a fierce whisper. "You oughter have more sense than to say such things to the girls. They don't want to be any worse scared than they are."
"But Pa's cousin did die," reiterated Sara.
"My Aunt Jane used to rub whisky on for a pain," suggested Peter.
"We haven't any whisky," said Felicity disapprovingly. "This is a temperance house."
"But rubbing whisky on the outside isn't any harm," argued Peter. "It's only when you take it inside it is bad for you."
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