"Oh, my baby! my precious darling, what is it?" cried Elsie, catching her
up in her arms. "Papa! Edward! she is dying!"
For the face had suddenly lost all its color; the eyes were rolled upward,
the tiny fists tightly clenched, and the little limbs had grown stiff and
rigid on the mother's lap.
Mr. Travilla hastily set down the babe, laid turned to look at his little
girl, his face full of alarm and distress.
Mr. Dinsmore sprang to his daughter's side, and meeting her look of agony,
said soothingly, "No, dearest, it is a spasm, she will soon be over it."
"Yes; don't be so terrified, dear child," said Rose, dropping her work and
hurrying to Elsie's assistance; "they are not unusual with children; I
have seen both May and Daisy have them. Quick, Aunt Chloe! a cloth dipped
in spirits of turpentine, to lay over the stomach and bowels, and another
to put between her shoulders. It is the best thing we can do till we get a
doctor here. But, ah, see! it is already passing away."
That was true; the muscles were beginning to relax, and in another moment
the eyes resumed their natural appearance, the hands were no longer
clenched, and a low plaintive, "Mamma," came from the little lips.
"Mamma is here, darling," Elsie said, amid her fast-dropping tears,
covering the little wan face with kisses, as she held it to her bosom.
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