Rodney learned from this and similar incidents to make the most of a bad case.
"A little corn, if you please," said one. She was helped plentifully by Rodney's mother.
"Give me a part of yours," said the second to the first. She received about four-fifths of it.
"You are too generous," said Rodney's mother, and refilled the plate.
Rodney sat on the floor, stroked his cat, and eyed the fine dresses. The ladies munched with dignity, or fingered the laces on their sleeves.
"I see Rodney has had the smallpox," said one.
"Yes," replied his mother.
"My boy had it, too."
"How did it serve him?"
"It killed him. All the good children die. It was a sad stroke to me. Well, since his death I have been able to dress like a lady."