He come to our house one night, a stranger off the road.
He said he was sick, an' tired, an' could he have a bed.

Mother said, 'No, for him to move on.' He tried an' he couldn't.

They was somethin' about him--well, you know how them things go! I wa'n't only sixteen, but I felt so sorry for him, all fever burned and mumblin', I helped pap put him to bed, an' doctored him all I could.

Come mornin' he was a sick man.

Pap went for the county doctor, an' he took jest one look an' says: 'Small pox! All of ye git!' "I was bound I wouldn't go, but pap made me, an' the doctor said he'd send a man who'd had it; so I started, but I felt so bad, come a chanct when they got to Groveville, I slipped out an' went back.