They were dumb at this. Then I asked each one how much he owed me, bringing out my book to verify. Not one owes less than $8, which they have owed over a year. "Now," I said, "don't you think I had good reason for choosing Nat to carry the keys?" They looked sheepish and departed.
Cherokee, January 13.
Last night at 2 o'clock Chloe woke me to say Mrs. Z. was very ill and Mr. Z. wanted a horse to go for the doctor. She had sent Dab to wake Gibby to go for old Florinda, the plantation nurse, spoken of as the "Mid" or the "Granny," who lives some distance off across a creek. I told her Mr. Z. could take Nana to go for the doctor.
I dressed rapidly and came down. Mrs. Z.'s face was crimson and she seemed unconscious. He was bending over her crying like a child and wailing out all the time, "O God, help her! I know I'm wicked, but spare her!" It was distressing.
Chloe was bathing her feet in hot water and doing all she could. I rubbed her for two hours and applied mustard until the nurse came, and about daylight she seemed relieved. I had not seen how the nurse could be got, but Dab's account was exciting.
"Old Florinda, the plantation nurse."
He with difficulty woke Gibby, who when he heard there was sickness at the "big house" got up quickly and they went together to the edge of the creek, where they shouted and knocked on a big cypress tree with sticks until the old woman came out of the house down to the edge of the creek, on the other side. When she understood it was sickness at the "big house" she jumped into her paddling boat which was tied there and without going back into the house paddled herself across, and when she landed, Dab said "she tie up her coat to her knee an' start to walk so fast that Gibby en me had to run to keep up."
This is an old time plantation sick nurse, who, though now very old, flies to relieve the sick with enthusiasm. She brought herbs with her and soon relieved the patient. This morning I lent the horse and buggy to Mr. Z. to go down to Gregory and consult the doctor.