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Triangle that she was a case--of small-pox. Maj. Jingo returned, but without a medical adviser; the village Esculapius having gone off to the city. Things looked gloomy enough. Triangle felt "chawed up," and wished he had been roasted alive in the city before venturing upon such a trip. But he felt he had a duty to perform, and he determined to put it through. "Major, I'm very sorry, but the fact is"---- "Never mind, never mind, my dear fellow--no trouble to us." "But," chokingly continued poor Triangle, "but, Major, the fact is, I--a--you've got a large family"---- "Never mind, my dear boy; don't say any more about it." "But to have the--a--the--small-pox"---- "What?" gasped the Major--"the--a"---- "Small-pox!" seriously enough responded Triangle. "Small-pox! Who? Where?" "Our Irish girl--up stairs--awful!" "O, good Lord! Irish--up stairs--small-pox!" reiterated the really alarmed proprietor of Jingo Hall. "I wouldn't have"--said Triangle. "The small-pox in my house"--echoed Jingo. "For all the blessed countries in the world!" passionately exclaimed Triangle. "Heavens!" exclaimed the Major; "my wife has a greater dread of small-pox than yellow fever, or death itself!" "What's to be done?" said poor Triangle. "Remove the girl to an out-house, instantly!" said the Major, pacing up and down, in great _furore_. "That's best, Major; go move her, at once." "Me? Me move her, sir?" said Jingo. "Why who will, Major?" responded Triangle. "Who? Why, you, of course." "Me?" exclaimed Triangle--"me? endanger my life, and the lives of all my family--me? No, sir, I'll--I'll--I'll be hanged if I do!" "Blur a' nouns, zur!" bawled the Irish hostler, as he came trotting up to the front veranda, where Triangle and Jingo were discussing the transportation of small-pox-- "Blur a' nouns--the dog's loose!" "Curse the dog!" said the Major. "But, zur, it's raving mad, he is!" "Mad! my dog?" cries Triangle. "A mad dog, too!" exclaims the Major, in horror. "O, too bad--horrible--wish I'd never seen"---- "Get your gun, quick--come on!" cried the Major. "But, my dear Major, my gun's broke all to smash. O! that I had shot the blasted brute instead of breaking my gun!" "Come on--never mind--seize a club, fork, or anything, and hunt around for the cursed dog. He'll bite some of our people, horses, or cattle." And away ran the Major, with a bit of stick about the size of a fenc
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