Once it was known that I wasn’t getting better and the local doctor had been summoned (he lives in another village nearly four miles off), kindnesses came from all directions, everybody offering the best they had. If extra people had been required to take turns sitting up at night, any number were ready to come on duty. One woman, who is exceedingly capable, though an amateur masseuse, came to inquire if it was a case where rubbing would be beneficial. She brought a bottle of Elliman’s with her, in case she could be of use, and offered to come daily.
Did the Buff Orpingtons lay that priceless treasure, an unexpected mid-winter egg? It was promptly sent up by a small child, with a kind hope from mother that the lady would be able to take it.
I believe Sarah Ann Perkins would have slain every duck she possessed (and have scorned to take payment), if only there had been the slightest chance of my once more eating that fair slice from the breast!
A calf’s foot was needed for jelly. The butcher hadn’t one, didn’t know who had; but one arrived next day, though he had had to scour the county for it.
Was anything required hurriedly from the village shop? Everybody was willing to go and fetch it, or Miss Jarvis would toil up with it herself, after the shop was closed, rather than I should be kept waiting, bringing up a bunch of early violets from her garden at the same time.
One farmer’s wife trailed up the rough, wet paths, with a little pigeon all ready for roasting, in the hope that it might tempt me.
The handy man went out and shot an owl because he was sure I must find all they hooters a turr’ble noosance. Of course he didn’t know how I love the owls, nor how companionable it seemed to hear them calling to one another through the long, long night. But probably the kind thought behind his gun was of greater worth than the bird he shot.
Yes, everybody was anxious to do something, only there was so little they could do—till one day Angelina lost herself! She had followed Abigail in the afternoon to the village, where a dog suddenly scared and chased her, and she flew off into the woods.
Abigail hunted for her till the winter dusk settled in, but no cat responded to her calls. So she had to content herself with mentioning the matter at each cottage in the vicinity, everyone willingly undertaking to keep a look-out for the missing cat. By the next afternoon every youngster in the village was out scouting for her, and saucers of milk were placed enticingly outside doors.