A doctor was
called at once and he remained with me from eight o'clock until noon
before I became comfortable. I thought I was going to get better right
off, or I should have written to 'Zekiel. Two other attacks, each more
severe than the one preceding, followed the first, and I was so sick
that writing, or telling any one else what to write, or where to write,
was impossible. Then I began slowly to recover, but I was very weak and
what made me feel worse than ever was the fact that the trouble with my
eyes, which before my illness I had attributed to nearsightedness, was
now so marked that I could not see across the room. I could not even see
to turn a spoonful of medicine from a bottle on the table beside my bed.
The Pettengills, Mr. Sawyer, are a self-reliant race, and I concluded in
my own mind that the trouble with my eyes was due to my illness, and
that when I recovered from that, they would get well; but they did not.
I was able, physically, to resume my work, but I could not see to read
or write. I sent for my employer and told him my condition. He advised
me to consult an oculist at once.
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