"No, no, nothing of that kind. But the bruises; have you no soreness." Alfred assured him that he had not. "I will be back in an hour," was the conclusion of the doctor's instructions to Lin. When Lin entered the room Alfred's first anxious query was: "What's the matter with the doctor, he wants to make you sick whether you are or not. I'm going to get out of this bed this day; I'll not lay here any longer." Here the mother entered cautioning Alfred to remain entirely quiet. "I'm going over to see grandmother; she is not well. I will bring your father home with me; the doctor will return by that time and we will know what to do for you." Later Mrs. Wagner came, a good-natured, motherly, old German woman, a near neighbor. Among her neighbors, she was esteemed as one whose knowledge was invaluable in the sick room. She insisted upon examining Alfred's condition. Although he insisted he was all right the old lady was permitted to examine his bruises. She left the room, returning soon with a large, hot poultice, applying it. Alfred grew rapidly worse. The doctor soon returned. At every pressure of his fingers he found a new sore spot. "Does that hurt?" "Yes, sir," would be the answer from Alfred. Warm teas were administered, cold towels were placed on his head, and hot poultices on other parts of his anatomy. Alfred feebly acknowledged he was feeling very badly. The father and mother came and with them the grandmother. When alone, the father advised Alfred that his body was a solid mass of bruises, that the flesh had turned black and blue. Alfred heard Lin whisper something about "mortification hed set in an' the doctor feared blood pizen." The family were at dinner--Alfred had been placed upon a diet of squab broth, none of the flesh, just the broth--Alfred quietly arose and, with the aid of the big looking glass, (mirrors had not been discovered as yet, in Brownsville), and a contortion feat such as he had never attempted previously, he scanned the bruised parts. Lin's worst fears seemed confirmed; all his person reflected in the looking glass was black as ink, as he expressed it. Good Mrs. Wagner, with the doctor's permission, continued applying the hot poultices. Alfred's misery increased near night when the nurses advised him to calm himself as the bruised blood was rapidly disappearing. Alfred urged the good woman on by declaring the poultices were getting cold, although they had been applied but a moment or so. Uncle Ned came to sit up. He greatly increased Alfred's nervousness by his attempts at consolation. He showed Alfred the error of his ways, assuring him he might have been killed outright and that his foolish ambitions to become an actor would probably lay him up for weeks, that it would cost his father a lot of money and possibly leave Alfred with his health impaired for a year to come.