Wot’s dem books? I dunno, caze I can’t read ’em all yit. But the cap’n’s mis’, she try larn me. Lemme see. (_Takes up a book and reads._) “Meel-iss-see-felt-a-cold-han’-on-her-fore-head-an’ -she-scream-ded-scream-ded.” Wot’s dat? Golly! I can’t do dat. (_Shuts up the book._) Sh! sh! de baby’s wokem up. He’ll holler ef he see me. I’ll make him tink I’m de cap’n’s mis’. (_He takes the parasol and opens it, spreads the handkerchief over his face, and sits down by the cradle. Enter_ CAPTAIN MILLER, R., _leaning on_ MARY’S _shoulder_.) MARY. Tell me, dear, just how you feel. (_Sees_ PHUS.) Oh, Phus! you’ll scare the baby. PHUS. Mis’, de baby was a gwine to wokem up, and I specks he’d tink ’twas you. CAPT. M. Phus, take off that rig, and go on deck, you lubber! (_Exit_ PHUS, R.) Oh, I don’t know. I feel just as I did once when I was a boy, before I had the typhoid fever,—tired all over. (_Sits._) My head is as light as a feather, and my feet are heavy as lead. I don’t feel as if I could step a step. MARY. Lie down a little while, and perhaps you’ll feel better. How much farther do we go up river? CAPT. M. About two hundred miles. We shall reach the last station in a few days. (_Takes off his jacket and shoes wearily, as he talks._) Patsy is at the wheel, and you can bring me word if he wants anything. MARY (_aside_). Oh, dear! I know he is going to be sick. (_To him_) Where is the chart of the river? CAPT. M. On deck, in the wheel-house. MARY. And all the things you use? CAPT. M. Yes. Why? MARY. Because I want to know, so that you can have a good long nap. CAPT. M. Our course is all marked out, and what to steer by; but I shall feel better, I hope, after I have had some sleep. You’d better go on deck, once in a while, see how things are going on, and let me know. (_Exit_ L., _holding by the doorway_.) MARY (_sitting_). What shall I do! away up here, a hundred miles from a doctor. I am afraid William has the river fever, the same as Phus had last year. Oh! mother! mother! If I could only have you with me! If I could only get word to you! (_Leans her head on the table._) (_Enter_ PHUS, R.) PHUS. Whar de cap’n? Pats say he want know which way ter go, and de cap’n must tell him. MARY. Phus, do you remember how sick you were last year? PHUS. An’! wouldn’t ’a’ libed ef you hadn’t ’a’ nussed me. MARY. Do you want to pay me for it? PHUS. I ain’t got no money, mis’; but I prays ebery night: Lor’ bress de cap’n’s wife. She nuss me; make me well. MARY. I don’t want any money, Phus. You can pay me in a better way. PHUS. An’ I sings in de cook-house w’en de pork’s a-fizzlin’, an’ Hank he likes it. (_Sings mournfully._)