"But how does your throat feel, Topknot?"
"Feels bad; why?"
"Girls, this child has a sore throat, and a high fever. Her hands are as hot as pepper."
Dotty wrung the dish-cloth tragically.
"She's going to have the measles; you see'f she don't."
"Hush!" said Prudy, springing up, and tucking back her sleeves. "Let's give her a warm bath. That's what mother does when we are sick, before ever she sends for the doctor."
"I'd ravver have a turkey-wash," said Fly, rousing a little, and then dropping her head again.
"There, she's lost her senses; I knew she would," said Dotty, walking the floor.
"Do stop that, Dot. She has her senses as clear as you have. When she says turkey-wash, she means a Turkish bath; it takes me to interpret. She had a very gentle Turkish bath once. Liked it—didn't you, Fly? Can't you rub her real hard with a crash towel, girls? That will be almost as good."
"Of course we can," said Prudy, forgetting her gust of indignation entirely; "and what could be nicer than this little bathroom, with the silver faucets and ivory tub. Come, Fly, and have your turkey-wash. 'Twill make you feel a great deal better."