"It would be better to begin by giving him his medicine. I know all
about it, for I was here yesterday. I forgot to ask his wife when she
gave it to him last," said Sylvia, "but we might as well begin fresh at
the half-pasts."
She poured out a teaspoonful of the stuff, and administered it to the
old man, who opened his mouth, and took it placidly.
"He is very quiet and very patient," said Sylvia to me in an
undertone,--and it is impossible for me to describe how delightful it
was to have her speak to me in such a confidential undertone,--"he
doesn't talk any," she continued, "and doesn't seem to care to have
anybody read to him, for when Sister Agatha tried that yesterday, he
went to sleep; but he likes his brow bathed, and I can sit on this side
of his bed and do that, and you can find a chair and sit on the other
side, and tell me more about your plan of brotherhood."
There was no other chair, but I found a box, on which I seated myself on
the other side of the old man's cot, while Sylvia, taking a bottle from
her pocket, proceeded to dampen the forehead of the patient with its
pleasantly scented contents.
I did not much like to see her doing this, nor did I care to discuss our
projects over the body of this rheumatic laborer.
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