“No, he isn't either,” screamed Mrs. Pepper, “he's got them, too!”
“Got two what?” asked grandma.
“Measles! he's got the measles too,” repeated Mrs. Pepper, loud as she could; so loud that the old lady's cap trembled at the noise.
“Oh! the dreadful!” said grandma; “and this girl too?” laying her hand on Phronsie's head.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Pepper, feeling it a little relief to tell over her miseries; “all three of them!”
“I haven't,” said Joel, coming in in hopes that grandma had a stray peppermint or two in her pocket, as she sometimes did; “and I'm not going to, either.”
“Oh, dear,” groaned his mother; “that's what Polly said; and she's got 'em bad. It's her eyes,” she screamed to grandma, who looked inquiringly.
“Her eyes, is it?” asked Mrs. Bascom; “well, I've got a receet that cousin Samanthy's folks had when John's children had 'em; and I'll run right along home and get it,” and she started to go.
“No, you needn't,” screamed Mrs. Pepper; “thank you, Mrs. Bascom; but Dr. Fisher's been here; and he put something on Polly's eyes; and he said it mustn't be touched.”
“Hey?” said the old lady; so Mrs. Pepper had to go all over it again, till at last she made her understand that Polly's eyes were taken care of, and they must wait for time to do the rest.