"
"O my head! I think it is very cruel, mamma, that you do not pity me."
"I do pity you, Frances, and will take care of you now that I see
you require help, as I perceive that you will not have any relief
without medicine."
Frances began again to cry, "O, I am so sick! I cannot take
medicine. I am sure I cannot."
"Come to your room, Frances; I shall give you something proper, and
you had better lie down after you have taken it; you will, perhaps,
drop into a sleep, and be well when you awake again." Her mamma took
her hand and led her up stairs, and Frances knew very well it was in
vain to make any objection, as her mamma always made a point of
obedience. The medicine was administered, although for some time
Frances refused to look at it. When she laid down, her mamma placed
the pillow high under her head, and, drawing the curtain to shade the
light, left the room that she might be perfectly quiet. And when she
returned to the drawing-room, she inquired of the other children what
they had been doing, and received a full account of the feast, and
the bird's nest, and all the little circumstances of each.
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