Bonny Jean, and A Severe Threat — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BONNY JEAN. 59 “Cowards |” hissed John Averill, setting his teeth hard to- gether; ‘‘I’ll have revenge for this, if I lay my own life down to gain it!” CHAPTER XI. IN THE OLD RED TAVERN. When Jean opened her eyes, she was in a strangé apartment. A tallow candle burning upon a rickety table cast a faint, sickly light throughout the room, and disclosed a square, half-fur- nished chamber—the table aforesaid, two chairs, and the bed upon which Jean was lying, being the sum total of its con- tents. But her mother’s kind face met the girl’s frightened eyes as she came back to the world again, and that atoned for all discomfort. Jean’s arm pained her frightfully. It had been dressed already by old Bill Corney himself, who had made his appear- ance during Jean’s insensibility, and announced his intention of attending to the wounds. Mrs, Conway knew him by repu- tation, and that he was reputed to be a good surgeon, in his rude and uncouth way. He knew the virtue of many healing plants and herbs which grow in the woods right in our path- way; yet we depend upon physicians and drug stores for aid, when, but for our own ignorance, we might dispense with such, for Nature supplies us with her own sovereign remedies, only we are too blind to read her handwriting aright. As I have said, Corney had attended to Jean’s injury, and applied a healing lotion, which quieted the patient, and reduced the inflammatory symptoms ; and now Jean was conscious once more. ‘‘ Where are we, mother?” she queried, trying to sit up. ‘Lie still, dear,” returned Mrs. Conway, gently. ‘‘I do Gomicboo <S (e(e)