"De Jedgmen Day," said a quivering voice.
Bodine's face was very white, but his iron nerves did not give way. "Ella," he said firmly, "you must keep calm and do as I say. It is an earthquake. Since the house stands we may hope to revive Cousin Sophy before taking her to the street. Come, Hannah, get up and do your best."
From her sitting posture on the floor, the old woman only answered in a low terrified monotone, "De Jedgmen Day."
"Oh, papa, she's just crazed, and we must do everything ourselves;" and, Ella, with trembling hands and stifled sobs, began to aid her father. "Oh, hear those awful cries in the street," she said after a moment. "Don't you think we should try to take cousin out?"
"If I were not so helpless!" Bodine groaned. "Hannah, wake up and help."
"De Jedgmen Day," was the only response.
"There is no use to look to her, papa. I'm strong. See, I can lift cousin, she is so light."
"No, Ella, it might injure you for life. If we could only partially revive her, and she could help you a little—There may not be another shock."
They worked on, growing more assured as the house remained quiet. Hannah was evidently crazed for the time being, for, deaf to all expostulations, she would not move, and kept repeating the terrible refrain.
"O God!" said Bodine in tones of the deepest distress, "to think that I cannot go to Mara!"