human
Tell John to saddle up and go for the doctor, Phoebe, and don't let mommie know, whatever you do. This isn't her lumbago at all. I don't know what it is. I wonder if a hot turpentine cloth wouldn't be better than this? I've a good mind to try it; her eyes are glassy with fever, and her skin is cold as a fish. You tell John to hurry up. He can ride Boxer. Tell him I want him to get a doctor here by to-morrow noon if he has to kill his horse doing it.
gpt
Is she that bad? Phoebe's black eyes glistened with consternation.
human
She's groaned all day and shook her head like this all time.
gpt
Oh, stop looking like that! No wonder she's sick, if you've stood over her with that kind of a face on you. You look as if someone were dead in the house!
human
I'm skeered of sick folks. Honest, it gives me shivers.
gpt
Well, keep out then. Make some fresh tea, Phoebe--or no, make some good, strong coffee. I'll need it, if I'm up all night. Make it strong, Phoebe. Hurry, and--