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Chapter 2 THE CHOLERA SEASON-MY MOTHER GOES AWAY-MY SIXTH BIRTHDAY.

Word Count: 1884    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ix years old. First we heard that it was among the natives, and the matter did not excite much notice. Then it broke out amon

her in the evening of the day of the Colonel's death. He was very white, very nervous, very restless. He brought us the news. Th

e it was infectious; he thought keeping up the men's spirits was eve

; you've never been through one of these seasons. Don't get

rdon l

heard of it, I have fancied a strange, faint ki

other, "that ought to overpower any faint

a sort of inarticulate groan. He stood on his feet, though not upright

l," said my father. "Come and get some brand

quarters, and sent the surgeon to him; and my mother took me on her knee,

wo days before by my mother's side tossed its head fretfully, as the "Dead March" wailed, and the slow tramp of feet poured endlessly on. My mother w

and she was now resolved to go. "I am sure I shall die if I stay here!" she cried, and it ended in her going away at once. Ther

of cholera, and I was anxious to dine with my fathe

my father, and two other officers had been pall-bearers at the funeral. My father came to me on his return. He was slightly chilled, and said he should remain indoors; so I had him all to myself, and we were very happy, though he complained of fatigue, and fell asleep once o

, and with them two other officers who happened to be of the party, and who were friends of my father. One of them was a particular friend of

, it was to the end of a discussion betwixt my Ayah, who was crying, and Mr. Abercrombie, in evening dress, wh

nd he carried me quickly down the passages

me, but I shrank away. That one night of suffering and collapse had changed him so that I did not know him again. At last I was persuaded to go to him, and by his voice and manner r

e very good to Mamma." There was a short silence

fellow. Does the

's nearly over. God's will be done. You've got the papers, Buller? Arkwright w

"It's time you fellows went

aying, "Buller, where are you? It's quite dark now. Would you say the Lord'

; "and you know I ought to say my pray

ding, bent their heads, and Mr. Abercrombie, kneeling,

clause "For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory," when his voice failed, and I, thinking he had forgotten

ne was now beginning to catch objects in the room, and a ray lighted up my father's face, and showed a change that even I could see. An officer stan

fied till Mr. Abercrombie held out his arms for me. He was more like a woman, and he was crying as well as I. I went to him and buried my sobs on his s

ad?" I at length f

ry dear. I'

Abraham's bos

go where,

ggar went that's lying on the steps in my Sunday

mited. Possibly my remarks recalled some childish remembrance

the poor beggar?" I asked. "Do yo

aid Mr. George. "

ed, in awe-struck tones, "Will th

to follow my theological lead, an

see them?

I'm not good eno

ou, and perhaps me, and Mamma, and perhaps Ayah, and perhaps Bustle, and perhaps Clive." Bustle was M

d too, and you must let me take you to bed, for i

my birthday." And I began to cry afresh, because Papa had promis

et that hung at his watch-chain. It was of Indian gold, with forget-me-nots in turquoise stones up

of the day." And he finally fastened it round my neck with his Trichinopoli watch-chain, leaving his watch loose in his waistcoat-pocket. Th

gels have fetched Pa

they have

lf to sleep. And this

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