Penny Dreadfuls, 1888 · page 39 of 242
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30 GRATIA’S TRIALS. It was promptly vetoed, and Raymond was left to shiver and sob by himself. ‘There ain’t no sense in a great boy, a most six year old, makin’ such a baby of himself!” said Mr. Kempfield, instigated _ to the expression of this opinion by his wife. ‘‘ And, Gratia, ? ae you ve just got to leave off interferin. But one keen February morning, when Raymond woke up with a suffocating sensation in his throat, and gasping for breath, Gratia burst through all bonds of policy or filial obedi- ence, ‘‘Raymond ain’t down to breakfast agin,” said Mr. Kemp- field, looking frowningly at the empty chair, as he entered. ‘<'There ain't no use in his dilly-dallyin’ so. You needn't save him nothin’, Almira.” ‘‘Gratia has some notion in her head about his being sick,” said the step-mother, ‘‘but I dare say it’s all make-believe and laziness,” Gratia turned from the stove, where she was preparing a mustard plaster for her brothers chest; her cheek was very pale, and her eyes sparkled with scarcely repressed indignation. ‘* He has got the croup,” she said—‘‘ that is all.” ‘‘I don't believe it,” said Mrs. Kempfield, sharply ; but the farmer looked alarmed. Raymond had been attacked once or twice with this fearful and insidious malady in his former wife’s life-time, and he had — not forgotten the terror of those seascns of vigil and prayer. ‘“ He used to have the croup,” said he, glancing, as if apolo- getically, at Almira. ‘‘ Maybe we’d better have a doctor.” ‘Nonsense !” said Mrs. Kempfield, pettishly. ‘‘I dare say he may have a bad cold—children are always picking up colds —and I'll stew up a little butter and vinegar and molasses to- gether when I’ve got through the thick of the work. That's 4: the best thing in the world for a cold. I'll see to it all, Ira, ™ dear—you needn't worry one particle.” And Mr. Kempfield went out to the upland woods where he =) GComichooks:co