But Mrs. Lansing felt herself too languid for exertion of any kind, and telling Uncle Abel that she herself was fully as sick as his wife, who was undoubtedly feigning, she sent him back with a sinking heart to the rude cabin, where his old wife lay, groaning aloud whenever the _cramps_, as she termed them, seized her. Scarcely, however, had he entered the low doorway, when a fairy form came flitting down the narrow pathway, her white dress gleaming through the dusky twilight, and her golden hair streaming out behind. It was little Jessie, who, from her crib, had heard her mother’s refusal to accompany Uncle Abel, and, stealing away unobserved, she had come herself to see Aunt Chloe, with whom she was quite a favorite. Unaccustomed as Jessie was to sickness, she saw at a glance that this was no ordinary case, and, kneeling down beside the negress, who lay upon the floor, she took her head upon her lap, and gently pushing back, beneath the gay turban, the matted, grizzly hair, she asked where the pain was. “Bress de sweet chile,” answered Chloe, “you can’t tache me with the pint of a cambric needle whar ’tain’t, and seems ef ebery jint in me was onsoderin’ when de cramp is on.” As if to verify the truth of this remark, she suddenly bent up nearly double, and rolling upon her face, groaned aloud. At this moment a negro, who had gained some notoriety among his companions as a physician, came in, and after looking a moment at the prostrate form of Chloe, who was now vomiting freely, he whispered a word which cleared the cabin in a moment, for the mention of _cholera_ had a power to curdle the blood of the terrified blacks, who fled to their own dwellings, where they cried aloud, and praying, some of them, “that de Lord would have mercy on ’em, and take somebody else to kingdom come, ef he must have a nigger anyway.” Utterly fearless, Jessie stayed by, and when _John_, or as he was more familiarly known, “Doctor,” proposed going for her mother, she answered, “No, no; Uncle Abel has been for her once, but she won’t come; and if she knows it is cholera, she’ll take me away.” This convinced the “Doctor,” who proceeded to put in practice the medical skill which he had picked up at intervals, and which was considerable for one of his capacity. By this time, a few of the women, more daring than the rest and curious to know the fate of their companion, ventured near the door, where they stood gazing wonderingly upon the poor old creature, who was fast floating out upon the broad river of death. It was a most violent attack, and its malignity was increased by a quantity of unripe fruit which she had eaten that morning. “Will somebody make a pra’r?” she said, feebly, as she felt her life fast ebbing away. “Abel, you pray for poor Chloe,” and her glassy eyes turned beseechingly towards her husband, who was noted at camp-meetings for praying the loudest and longest of any one.