It appears from Nanny's theory, that although the child was in the agony of death, and with the last pang upon him, yet the vital spark could not part from him, until his crib was lengthened sufficiently to allow his feet to stretch downward without hindrance. I have sometimes thought that perhaps old Nanny was more than half right in her theory.
Now, I cannot tell whether the virus of the boy's small-pox was too far spent, or whether I was an extraordinarily healthy subject, or whether perhaps old Nanny frightened me, but certain it is, I did not catch the small-pox. Therefore there was but one alternative, and that was, that I must be inoculated, or, as the villagers expressed, it "knockle-headed." As soon as I discovered this I really began to quake with fear, and to wonder why I was born. Not that I feared the operation itself, as I had seen it performed on others, but I dreadfully feared the doctor who would perform upon me. I had not long to wait before my suspicions and fears were brought to a climax, for my mother took me off to Nanny Holland.
Nanny soon began to see about "knockle-heading" the children, and when she turned to me first, and I saw her coming towards me, with her surgical knife, my hair stood on end with fright. Where she obtained the virus from I do not know, but she clawed hold of my arm, and stabbed a stocking needle through the skin, and lifting the skin upwards at the same time with a razor in her hand, cut a piece, about the size of a threepenny bit, three parts off, a bit of the skin being left in the way of a hinge; then with the point of an old knife, she plastered some matter into the wound, just as you might see a painter stopping a hole in a board with putty; then she replaced the slice of skin with the following caution, "Now, youngster, if you scratch that off, I'll kill thee." My little sister was put through the same process, and Louisa Gard, a little chubby happy cherub of about four years of age, and a constant playmate of ours, was also operated upon.
In due course old Nanny's "matter" began to work. My sister was very ill with small-pox, and so also was little Louisa. As for myself, I had it very slightly, in fact no one but my mother knew that I had the malady upon me. My sister got well in time, but of course the small-pox left its marks severely upon her. Poor little Louisa never rallied; or if she got over the small-pox, she had croup, which was too much for her, and she crossed over into the Land of Beulah.