"Maria, can not you think of something or other?" exclaimed Aunt Phebe, helplessly.
"Put his feet in hot water with plenty of mustard in it, and a dose of rhubarb and magnesia," advised grandmamma, in her sleep.
"It isn't the baby, mother; it's Pepper that's sick," replied Aunt Maria.
At this moment Uncle Fritz's welcome voice was heard at the hall door. The boys darted up stairs to tell their griefs, and ask a hundred questions.
"Oh, brother, that dreadful dog has gone and made himself ill!" was Miss Maria's greeting.
"What shall we do for him?" was Miss Phebe's.
"Mustard draughts and hive syrup best thing in the world," murmured the old lady, uneasily.
"Don't fret, mother; no one's ill but Pepper," said Mr. Hayes, following his sisters to where the invalid was lying.
Four faces brightened visibly as Uncle Fritz pronounced it a case of distemper, and not hydrophobia, and recommended removal to the hospital.
"The hospital!" exclaimed both boys in wonder.