HERB TEA.
Mr. N. had been married but a few weeks, and his bride was a lovely and accomplished lady. Her health was perfect; she had never known, by personal experience, what sickness is, and they were looking forward to the future with the most sanguine expectations of happiness. But disappointment is written upon all earthly hopes, and Mr. N. was not to be an exception from the general rule. His wife was suddenly taken with cholera. The family physician was called in, and did what he could to arrest the disease. But she continued to grow worse, and a council of doctors was called, to consult measures for her relief.
Mrs. N. had requested that a friend of hers, who had long been employed in nursing and doctoring those who had confidence in her—a lady of great talent and education in the art of curing with roots and herbs—to call in and see her. As this lady approached the house, and saw the carriages of the physicians, she became alarmed for the safety of her friend; but when she entered the house, the silence and sadness that reigned in that once happy mansion, sent a chill to her heart. Soon the doctors came out, one by one, and silently left the house. Mr. N. did not inquire their opinion of the condition of his wife—he could read it in their looks. After all had gone but the attending physician, Mr. N. and the nurse, Mrs. T., entered the room, where the patient lay, apparently in the last stage of the disease. The doctor rose from his seat beside the bed; as Mr. N. advanced and inquired, “Is there no hope?” he could hardly command his voice to tell that afflicted man, that his wife must die; and his gushing tears spoke his sympathy with the sufferer.
Mrs. T. looked for a moment upon the unconscious form of her friend, then, turning to the doctor, said,
“Tell me, my dear sir, can you do nothing more for this woman?”
He shook his head, and then turned away.
“Then you are willing,” she continued, “I should do what I can to make her more comfortable while she lives?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. N.
“Certainly,” repeated the doctor. “If you can do anything for her comfort, do it, for she cannot stay with us long.”
As he said this, he left the house, and Mrs. T. applied herself to her task. She directed the friends to get some hot water, bricks, &c., while she sent a boy for some herbs; she wrote a note, and requested him to carry it to the man with whom she had been living. He soon returned with the articles. What she gave the patient to drink, we do not know; but we soon saw its effects. The cold sweat was wiped from her limbs—bottles of hot water were placed around her—a plaster was applied to her stomach, and, in a short time, she sank into a sweet sleep, which continued an hour or two, when she awoke, and began to vomit. The friends were now much alarmed, and thought she must certainly die. But the joyful expression of Mrs. T.’s countenance, told them that she, at least, had no fears of a fatal result.
Through the day and night, the nurse continued her exertions for her friend; and the next morning, when the kind and sympathizing doctor came in to look at the corpse, he was very much surprised to find his patient sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of porridge!
Turning to the nurse, he asked, “What did you give this woman?”
“Herb tea, sir!” she answered, in a tone of voice which forbade further questioning.
Mrs. N. still lives, and, when her children are sick, she gives them HERB TEA!