Lucy swallowed it as she swallowed everything her mother brought to her.  Poor little one!  She had nothing to buoy her up or to fight science with.

In the course of an hour her mother gave her the medicine again, and persuaded herself that there was a perceptible brightening in her daughter’s face.

Mrs. Mason, Caroline’s mother, called across the hall:  “How Lucy dis evenin’, Mis’ Benson?”

“Oh, I think Lucy air right peart,” Martha replied.  “Come over an’ look at huh.”

Mrs. Mason came, and the mother told her about the new faith doctor and his wonderful powers.

“Why, Mis’ Mason,” she said, “’pears like I could see de change in de child de minute she swallowed dat medicine.”

Her neighbor listened in silence, but when she went back to her own room it was to shake her head and murmur:  “Po’ Marfy, she jes’ ez blind ez a bat.  She jes’ go ‘long, holdin’ on to dat chile wid all huh might, an’ I see death in Lucy’s face now.  Dey ain’t no faif nur prayer, nur Jack-leg doctors nuther gwine to save huh.”

But Martha needed no pity then.  She was happy in her self-delusion.

On the morrow the faith doctor came to see Lucy.  She had not seemed so well that morning, even to her mother, who remained at home until the doctor arrived.  He carried a conquering air, and a baggy umbrella, the latter of which he laid across the foot of the bed as he bent over the moaning child.

“Give me some brown paper,” he commanded.

Martha hastened to obey, and the priestly practitioner dampened it in water and laid it on Lucy’s head, all the time murmuring prayers—­or were they incantations?—­to himself.  Then he placed pieces of the paper on the soles of the child’s feet and on the palms of her hands, and bound them there.

When all this was done he knelt down and prayed aloud, ending with a peculiar version of the Lord’s prayer, supposed to have mystic effect.  Martha was greatly impressed, but through it all Lucy lay and moaned.

The faith curist rose to go.  “Well, we can look to have her out in a few days.  Remember, my good woman, much depends upon you.  You must try to keep your mind in a state of belief.  Are you saved?”

“Oh, yes, suh.  I’m a puffessor,” said Martha, and having completed his mission, the man of prayers went out, and Caroline again took Martha’s place at Lucy’s side.

In the next two days Martha saw, or thought she saw, a steady improvement in Lucy.  According to instructions, the brown paper was moved every day, moistened, and put back.

Martha had so far spurred her faith that when she went out on Saturday morning she promised to bring Lucy something good for her Christmas dinner, and a pair of shoes against the time of her going out, and also a little doll.  She brought them home that night.  Caroline had grown tired and, lighting the lamp, had gone home.

“I done brung my little lady bird huh somep’n nice,” said Martha, “here’s a lil’ doll and de lil’ shoes, honey.  How’s de baby feel?” Lucy did not answer.