"Pretty sweet Honey," she murmured.
Mrs. Callahan breathed a sigh of relief. "That's the first dost of
medicine we've got her to take to-day," she said. "We've all been tryin'
to worrit it down her. We've give her everything in the house she
fancied. Pa he paid her a bottle of beer to take a spoonful last night.
Bless you, no'm"--even in her distress she laughed at Miss Dorcas's
shocked look--"she didn't drink a drop of it. She likes to see it
sizzle, and she had him pull off the cap and let it foam and drizzle on
the floor."
"I would whip her," said Miss Dorcas, drawing her mouth down at the
corners.
"No'm, you wouldn't," said Mrs. Callahan, "not if you was her mother and
she sick. But it do worrit me awful. These two days I been pourin' out a
spoonful of her medicine every two hours--time she ought to take it--and
a-throwin' it away. It's a dreadful waste. But I got to do something to
make the doctor think she's took it. It makes him so mad when she
don't."
Miss Dorcas exclaimed in dismay. "Aren't you afraid the child will die
if she doesn't take the medicine?"
"Yessum, I am. But what can I do?" said Mrs. Callahan. "I try to get her
to take it every time she ought to have a dost.
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