This, of course, only provoked her the more, and she strove to have his daily tasks increased, in the amiable hope that his ” proud spirit ” might be tamed thereby. Mr. Mudge, who was somewhat under petticoat government, readily acceded to his wife’s wishes, and henceforth Paul’s strength was taxed to its utmost limit. He was required to be up with the first gray tint of dawn and attend to the cattle. From this time until night, except the brief time devoted to his meals, he was incessantly occupied. Aunt Lucy’s society, his chief comfort, was thus taken from him; since, in order to rise early, he was obliged to go to bed as soon as possible after his day’s work was finished.
The effects of such incessant labor without a sufficient supply of nourishing food, may easily be imagined. The dry bread and meager soup which constituted the chief articles of diet in Mrs. Mudge’s economical household, had but one recommendation,–they were effectual preventives of gluttony. It was reported that on one occasion a beggar, apparently famishing with hunger, not knowing the character of the house, made application at the door for food. In an unusual fit of generosity, Mrs. Mudge furnished him with a slice of bread and a bowl of soup, which, however, proved so far from tempting that the beggar, hungry as he was, left them almost untouched.
One day, as Paul was working in the field at a little distance from Mr. Mudge, he became conscious of a peculiar feeling of giddiness which compelled him to cling to the hoe for support,–otherwise he must have fallen.
” No laziness there,” exclaimed Mr. Mudge, observing Paul’s cessation from labor, ” We can’t support you in idleness.”
But the boy paid no regard to this admonition, and Mr. Mudge, somewhat surprised, advanced toward him to enforce the command. Even he was startled at the unusual paleness of Paul’s face, and inquired in a less peremptory tone, ” what’s the matter? ”
” I feel sick,”gasped Paul.
Without another word, Mr. Mudge took Paul up in his arms and carried him into the house.
” What’s the matter, now? ” asked his wife, meeting him at the door.
” The boy feels a little sick, but I guess he’ll get over it by-and-by. Haven’t you got a little soup that you can give him? I reckon he’s faint, and that’ll brighten him up.”
Paul evidently did not think so, for he motioned away a bowl of the delightful mixture, though it was proffered him by the fair hands of Mrs. Mudge. That lady was somewhat surprised, and said, roughly, ” I shouldn’t wonder if he was only trying to shirk.”
This was too much even for Mr. Mudge; ” The boy’s sick,” said he, ” that’s plain enough; if he don’t get better soon, I must send for the doctor, for work drives, and I can’t spare him.”
” There’s no more danger of his being sick than mine,” said Mrs. Mudge, emphatically; “however, if you’re fool enough to go for a doctor, that’s none of my business. I’ve heard of feigning sickness before now, to get rid of work. As to his being pale, I’ve been as pale as that myself sometimes without your troubling yourself very much about me.”
” ‘Twon’t be any expense to us,” alleged Mr. Mudge, in a tone of justification, for he felt in some awe of his wife’s temper, which was none of the mildest when a little roused. ” ‘Twon’t be any expense to us; the town has got to pay for it, and as long, as it will get him ready for work sooner, we might as well take advantage of it.”
This consideration somewhat reconciled Mrs. Mudge to the step proposed, and as Paul, instead of getting, better, grew rapidly worse, Mr. Mudge thought it expedient to go immediately for the village physician. Luckily Dr. Townsend was at home, and an hour afterwards found him standing beside the sick boy.
” I don’t know hut you’ll think it rather foolish our sending for you, doctor,” said Mrs. Mudge, ” but Mudge would have it that the boy was sick and so he went for you.”