He made the woman sit on a stool, with the little girl wrapped in a sheet
and sitting on her lap. I saw him take up a shiny instrument, which he
fastened in the baby's mouth, notwithstanding her struggles.
"Now hold her firmly," he ordered, "and you, Mrs. Atkins, get behind her
and take her head. Hold it steady, just this way. Never mind her crying."
But the little one wrenched herself away from the woman's grasp. The
breath entered its lungs with an awful long hoarse sound and the poor
little lips were very blue.
"For God's sake, hold her better," he cried again.
"I'm all of a tremble," said Mrs. Atkins, weeping. "She's sure goin' ter
die. I kin never hold her, she do be fightin' me so."
Of course there was only one thing to do. I ran out of the corner to
which I had retreated and pushed the foolish woman away and seized the
baby's head so that it could not move.
Dr. Grant stared at me, shaking his head, but I suppose I looked at him
defiantly, for I was really angry with him.
"This is all wrong, Miss Jelliffe," he said. "You should not expose
yourself to this infection."
He spoke so quietly that I became rather sorry I had been provoked at
him, but he paid no more heed to me. Once he placed a hand on one of
mine, to show me exactly how to hold the head, and then he took a long
handle to which something was fastened at right angles. The child's mouth
was widely opened by the gag he had inserted, and his left finger went
swiftly down into the child's throat and the instrument, pushed by his
right hand, followed, incredibly quick.
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