Then, as "Liddy" went back to the kitchen, she wondered if it might not be the cold weather that made Willy have what she called his "walking-spells."
"For he is so much worse in winter than he is in summer," thought she. "Any way, I'm going to try, and see if I can't put a stop to it to-night; and then, if the expeeriment works, I'll try it again."
What "expeeriment"? You will soon see. There had been a quantity of charcoal put on the kitchen fire to broil some steak for travellers; so the kind-hearted Liddy bustled about on tiptoe, filled a shallow pan with some of the coals, "piping hot," and placed it very near the trundle-bed, on Mrs. Parlin's foot-stove.
Alas for Liddy's ignorance! she was always rather foolish in her fondness for Willy; but didn't she know any better than to put a dish of red coals so near him in a small room, and then go out and shut the door? She often said she didn't "see any use in all this book-larning," and wondered Mrs. Parlin should be so anxious to have her children go to school. In her whole life Liddy had never attended school more than six months; and as for chemistry and philosophy she knew nothing about them except that they are hard words to spell. She did not dream that there was a deadly gas rising every moment from that charcoal, and that her darling Willy was breathing it into his lungs. She may have heard of the word "gas," but if she had she supposed it was some sort of "airy nothing" not worth mentioning.
Of course you know that if she had hated Willy, and wished to murder him, she could hardly have chosen a surer way than this; but poor Liddy went back to the kitchen with a smiling face, feeling well pleased with her "expeeriment," and began to chop a hash of beef, pork, and all sorts of vegetables, for to-morrow's breakfast.
After a little while Willy began to toss about uneasily; but he did not come out of the room and Liddy was delighted. She had said she meant to put a stop to that; and so, indeed, she had,—for this time at least. The dear child had not strength enough to get out of bed, and moaned as if a heavy hand were clutching at his throat. In fact he was suffocating. It is frightful to think of! Was nobody coming to save him?
The chilly teamsters had some time ago crowded into the bar-room with frost on their hair and whiskers; but the frost was fast turning to steam as they drank the cider which John, the new hired man, heated with the red-hot loggerhead. Dr. Hilton had set out the little red chair, and somebody would have wondered why Willy did not come in, if the men had not all been so busy telling stories that they did not have time to think of anything else.
It was now nearly nine, and Mrs. Parlin and Love were in the sitting-room sewing by the light of two tallow candles.
"Isn't it the coldest night we've had this year, mother?"
"Yes, dear, I think it is. You know what the old ditty says,—