'Well, that ought to do it,' commented Henry, looking at a few
iridescent bubbles at the bottom of the glass. 'I made it strong.'
There was a strained silence when I almost seemed to hear my own heart
beats. 'How--how--do you feel, now, darling?' I asked at last.
'Dreadful, thank you, Mama, dear.'
'That isn't enough,' I cried in anguish. 'Can't you----?'
'No, I can't, Mama.'
'This is terrible,' I broke out, fast becoming hysterical. 'What is to
be done! Can nothing save her?'
'I suppose the doctor will bring along a stomach pump,' said Henry,
trying to soothe me.
'Oh, must he?' moaned The Kid (ignored).
'Get 'er to put 'er finger down 'er throat,' suggested Elizabeth
brightly; 'that'll work it.'
It was the last straw. The Kid, though still dutiful, was utterly
outraged. 'No, no, I won't,' she cried in open rebellion.
She looked unhappy. The soap and water had evidently met the allied
forces of ipecac. and salt, and a fierce battle was, no doubt, in
progress in her interior at the moment. 'I won't,' she repeated
desperately.
'Do try, darling,' implored Henry, 'and I'll give you a whole shilling.'
'No, no, _no_. I don't want any shillings.' Judging by her expression
the soap must have commenced an encircling movement, and the salt and
ipecac. were hurrying up reserves. 'I won't put my finger down my
throat.'
'What are we to do?' I said, wringing my hands.
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