Nor was I wrong, for scarcely was the dinner cleared away, than on came the shivers, just as I expected, and I kept going hot and cold by turns, and I declare all my joints ached so, that as I walked across the room, I felt as if I could have fallen down and gone all to pieces, just like the dancing skeleton in the Fantoccini, while my poor old knees began to shoot away as if some one was digging a carving-fork into them; and my wretched back was as cold as though a person was amusing himself by pouring buckets of spring-water right down between my shoulders; and though I put on all the shawls and cloaks I had got in the house, and sat with my nose right in the fire, (if I may be allowed the phrase,) still I could not get warm. When I complained to Mr. Edward of how ill I felt, he only answered, “The fact is, my dear, you’ve caught a violent cold,” (as if I didn’t know that as well as he did, the brute,) “and the sooner you get yourself up-stairs to bed the better; and if you follow my advice, you’d have it warmed first, and take a good large basinful of gruel, with a James’s powder, for supper.” “Gruel and James’s powder, indeed!” I replied, with much sarcasm; “you wont gruel and James’s powder me, I can tell you, sir;--as if _I_ didn’t know what’s good for a cold;--a glass of hot rum-and-water, with a bit of butter, the size of a walnut; and that’s what _I_ call good for a cold.” “For goodness’ sake mind, my love, and tallow your nose as well,” returned Mr. Knowall. “Yes, Mr. Edward,” I replied, “I _shall_ tallow my nose as well, and tie my flannel petticoat round my head into the bargain--that’s what I shall do.” “And a lot of good it’ll do you,” he answered. “A pack of old woman’s rubbish.” “You call it old woman’s rubbish, do you?--then I don’t,” I continued, with my customary satire. “I call it an excellent remedy--that’s what I call it.” “But how can the tallow on your nose do you any good, I should like to know!” he returned. “You’d like to know?” I said, in my bitterest way--“I dare say you would, but I’m not going to tell you.” “Yes; but why is it an excellent remedy?” he inquired, grinning in a way I didn’t half like. “Because it is,” I replied, with my usual argument. “Yes; but what on earth do you use it for?” he continued. “Because I do,” I answered, determined to have the best of it.