Angel Agnes | Page 6

t'others, nurse?"
inquired the driver of the wagon, consulting a small pass-book that he
carried in his side coat pocket.
Agnes was horrified to hear such a brutal question propounded to her in
the coolest and most business-like manner.
"What do you mean?" asked she, indignantly.
"Mean jist wot I says! No time to fool round, nuther," was the answer.
"This is the Burton fam'ly, aint it?" he asked, giving his book another
glance, and then pitching his eye quickly up around the store, as though
looking for a sign with which to compare the note book.
"Yes, Burton," answered Agnes.

"All right, then! They wuz tuk yisterday at noon. There's a man, a
woman, four children!" [He tapped the tip of each finger of his left
hand once with the back of the book, and the thumb twice, looking
Agnes very convincingly in the face all the while, as though to make
her thoroughly understand, without putting him to the bother of a
second statement.] "Six--they wuz tuk at noon yisterday. Two dead this
mornin'. Four more oughten be dead by--let's see--why, time's up now!
t'houten be dead now! By--how's that? You aint foolin', hey? Big fine
fur foolin' the wagon man, you know. Now say, if any on 'em's near
gone it'll do, you know. Save me bother, an' you too, don't you see? Ef
they're near gone, 'nuff not ter kick nor holler wen we puts 'em in, it'll
do, 'cause then they can't git better, you know, an' they're outen their
misery sooner."
The insinuating leer with which the wretch ended this speech caused
Miss Arnold's blood to run cold.
"You brute! you fiend! ghoul! or whatever kind of demon you call
yourself, begone! in the name of Heaven, begone!" exclaimed the
heroic girl, her eyes flashing fire, and her whole frame trembling with
disgust and horror.
Her demeanor cowed the fellow, and he actually cringed as he backed
out at the door. But on the sidewalk he seemed to recover his coolness,
or at least he assumed to, for stepping in again, he exclaimed:
"Mind, I'll be round in the mornin', and I don't want no gum games! I've
got too much to do on my hands now."
Agnes paid no heed to him at all, but hastening back to her patients, she
recommenced her nursing care of them.
There was no fire, and in fact none was needed, except for cooking and
preparing the one or two simple remedies which Agnes used in
connection with the treatment of the sick victims, and which she felt
assured would not interfere with the medicine they were taking.
In truth, during the whole epidemic, it seemed as though mere medicine

was of no avail whatever, and that really the methods and means used
by the natives, independent of the doctors, did all the good that was
done.
First, she got out of the store some mackerel and bound them, just as
they came out of the barrel, brine and all, to the soles of the feet of both
the mother and children.
This simple remedy acted like a charm, for in about three hours the
fever began to break. Agnes put on fresh mackerel as before, removing
the first ones, which, startling as it may seem, were perfectly putrid,
though reeking with the strong salt brine when she applied them.
By nine o'clock that night the noble young woman had the
inexpressible delight of seeing her poor patients so far changed for the
better as to be completely out of danger.
On the next morning, true to his promise, the dead-wagon man came
around. He was one of those in-bred wicked spirits which take delight
in hating everything and everybody good and beautiful; just as the
Greek peasant hated Aristides, and voted for his banishment, because
he was surnamed the "good." This fellow already hated Agnes, and his
ugly face was contorted with a hideous grin, as he thrust himself in at
the store door and exclaimed:
"Hallo! where's them dead 'uns? fetch 'em out!"
Agnes had not expected him to put his threat of coming the next
morning into execution. She was therefore somewhat taken aback on
beholding him.
But she was a girl of steady, powerful nerves, and cool temper, and the
instant she saw that the fellow had made up his mind to behave the way
he did merely to vex and harass her, she made up her mind to "settle
him off."
Paying no heed therefore to what he said, Agnes quietly put on her hat
and shawl took her umbrella in her hand, and stepping directly up to the

brutal wretch said, in a determined tone of voice:
"Come along with me; I intend to give you such a lesson that you will
not forget