A new trouble soon came upon them. Mary was seized with a small-pox of a
dreadful sort. Who now was to help the weak mother to nurse the little
Maria? Abby was too young. The babe was four months old, and a heavy
burden for feeble arms; yet all day long the mother carried it, as she
went to and fro from the sick child to the poor prisoner. Sometimes, when
it was asleep, she laid it down by the side of her husband. He was able
to watch a _sleeping_ babe, but not to nurse a babe _awake_, owing to his
great weakness, and to his mangled feet. Soon the babe herself was
attacked by the small-pox, and continued very ill for three months. This
last trial was too much for the poor mother. Her strength failed her, and
for many weeks she lay upon her mat unable to rise. She must have
perished, if it had not been for the faithful servant. He was a native
of Bengal, and a heathen. Yet he was so much concerned for his sick
mistress and imprisoned master, that he would sometimes go without food
all day, while he was attending to their wants; and he did all without
expecting any wages.
The poor little infant was in a sad case now its mother was lying on the
mat. It cried so much for milk, that once its father got leave to carry
it round the village to ask the mothers who had babes, to give some milk
to his. By this plan, the little creature was quieted in the day, but at
night its cries were most distressing.
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