"Thank yer kindly, ma'am," he answered. "I'se sure a whole lot better an' now we has grub too."
You know how sweet the fields are after a storm, Aunt Jennie. Here it also looked as if some dreadful black cloud had lifted, so that the sun shone down again on this desolate place and made it beautiful to the sick man.
Then I had to swallow some strong tea, without milk, which I abhor. I trust I managed it with fortitude. The doctor also had to submit.
"The day is fast approaching when I shall perish from an aggravated case of tea-poisoning," he confided to me. "Everywhere, under penalty of seeing long faces, I am compelled to swallow it in large doses. I lie awake nights seeking vainly for some sort of excuse that will be accepted without breaking hearts."
"I hope that when you feel the symptoms coming you will hasten back to the security of civilization," I told him.
"Even that is open to question," he answered.
And so we brought the poor man home, Aunt Jennie, and I'm beginning to feel dreadfully sleepy, so I'll say au revoir.
CHAPTER VII
From John Grant's Diary
Atkins has just returned from St. John's, bringing loads of things for the Jelliffes. He consulted me timidly as to how much he might charge them for freight, for I am beginning to share with Mr. Barnett the honor of being considered as a general bureau of information. I craftily obtained his own views, and suggested a slight increase. Mr. Jelliffe audited the bill and gave the man five dollars extra for his trouble, so that by this time the whole family is weeping with joy. Atkins also brought me a batch of medical journals and a letter.