"Cold boggy stewponds in the garden, such as our ancestors loved, damming up the stream.

They must needs have fish in Lent, we know; and paid the penalty of it by ague and fever." "Stewponds damming up the stream?
Scoutbush ought to drain them instantly!" said the Major, half to himself.

"But still the house lies high--with regard to the town, I mean.

No chance of malaria coming up ?" "Upon my word, sir, as a professional man, that is a thing that I dare not say.

The chances are not great--the house is two hundred yards from the nearest cottage: but if there be an east wind--" "I cannot bear this any longer.