MEASLES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21876, 11 August 1934, Page 20

MEASLES

BY H. B. LAMONT.

Dad groaned. "What is the matter?" I asked looking up from reading my own letters. / , . " A letter from Aunt Agatha, bhe is coming to stay—for a month! Here, read it for yourself." I picked up the pages Dad tossed me and read the following:

" July 28. Dear Edward » (that would rile Dad to begin with as he hates to be called Edward).* , , . "You will, I am sure be happy to learn that I have made a hnd. A friend of mine who recently paid a visit to the South Island has found a man who is a perfect marvel at dieting. As von know I am quite convinced that practically all the ills that the human flesh is heir to are caused through the present pernicious foods we eat, I nave arranged to go South as soon as i cete a little warmer, probably the middle of September and place myself unreservedly under his guidance for six months ,or more. In the meanwhile propose to set my house in order here, bed then pay you a visit for a mouth, Until I am ready to go. I shall take the opportunity while I am with you oh spending a few days with dear to see how she and her now husband are getting on. I shall arrive by the afternoon train next Thursday. Your loving Aunt, Agatha."

" Well," said Dacl as I folded it ill aid handed it back to aio we going to do about it P " Air the spare bed and meek th< afternoon train nest Thursday I sup pose. It's all we can do —except got th< sort of tea Aunt Agatha likes," I addec a trifle maliciously. Dad groaned again! "Can't yoi think of something? Can't we preveni her from coming somehow? You knov what it means, dieting for breakfast dinner and tea. Not a meal in th< house fit to eat the whole time she n here, or if it in she makes it turn sou] with the things she says about it whil< you are eating it. Her face is_ eaougl to turn the milk sour without listening to her tongue. That's the worst oi these cranks. We're not cows or rabbit! or monkeys to live entirely on vege tables and nuts. Give me a good steat when X come in hungry. It was all true. Only too well I it, from the experience of past visita tions inflicted on me at intervali throughout my married life, by Dad i only aunt. She was an elderly spinstei of ample proportions with the constitution of a horse and a fad that she wa! delicate and that only a v egetariar diet kept her in this world. Thai would not have been so bad, thougn it is always a nuisance cooking separ ately for one person, but she insists that everyone would be in bettei health if only they followed her rule: in dieting and she always tried to mab overvone within her reach follow them " Mother," said Dad at last with th( firmness 6f despair, " you 11 have tc write and tell her its not convenient It's only six months since she was hen last. I simply can't stand another dose 80 " 8 What about me?" 1 eriquirec tartly. "I have her all day. You r< only in to meals." " Well she spoils them, every one o; them. Just drop her a line and tel her it's impossible to have her tor al least six months. She'll be safe in th< South Island toy then." ~ " You: know very well, Dad, I saic crossly, " that it is not the slightesl use. liou know what Aunt Agatha is She would just write back and say sh< wouldn't dream of putting us out foi the world and that it is immateria where she sleejis, just tuck her in anj little corner but don't worry about hei because she'll be happy anywhere—ano she'll be up by the afternoon tram next Thursday. Thsit is what she would say, and when she came she would expect the best bedroom aired and ready and the whole family on parade to do hei honour. It's no use, we'll just have tc grin and bear it." , ' " I've got it," shouted Dad suddenly islapping his leg heartily. " Write and 'tell her you've got measles. You know Ihow scared she is of anything infectious. You remember how she fled when Maisie came homo from school with the chicken-pox. And how she boasts that she ha 3 never had any. of these childish complaints. You write to-night, Mother." . " Write it yourself," I said. ' She is your aunt. Besides," I added with a slightly malicious smile, " she wrote to you. It is only polite for you to answer it. Also, Dad, I tell you noiv, I'm not going to have measles and stay in for a whole month, not for you or anyone glgg ''y "Oh, it isn t necessary to really have them," said Dad airily. " You just tell Auct Agatha you have. I'll write myself, if you don't want to. Only I thought it would come better from you." " Well you can say you've got them yourself," I said, " and its mot the slightest use telling Aunt Agatha unless you carry it out properly.. You know she says she wants to see Patsy, and she is sure to write to her and perhaps come and stay with her if she's afraid to come here. Besides, suppose she met some' of the folk from round about here on one of their trips to town and she mentioned that you had measles, and they didn't know anything about it. then the fat would be in the fire, with a vengeance. So if you're going to do the thing at all, you'll have to do it properly. And you can have your measles voursielf. Personally I consider it a foolish plan, and I'm sure it will let vou down- somehow or other. "Don't be a wet blanket, mother. You know nothing could be worse than Aunt Agatha for a month. I'll have the measles," he continued recklessly. " They say the older you are when you get them, the worse you are. I must mention it. That will be sure to scare Aurtt Agatha if nothing else will. How long do thev take Mother? " Seven days from the time of infection 1 believe, and it is a month s quarantine I know. Hie first week or so you'll have to stay in bed." " Never mind, Mother, it's a good thing it's winter, and the boy can manige with only two cows. A blessing it s lot a month later. I'll write and tell tier I've got measles. They've been gong round here lately, haven't they? I nodded. " And you can ring up Patsy and one >r two of the neighbours, and pass on the good new:s. And then I'll take to my bed and do the job properly." Dad seemed quite happy over his idea ;o I let him alone without further protest, though I doubted the success of ;he plan. " I'll put a. P.S., advising her to burn ;his letter, that'll clinch the matter." ihortled dad, as he jabbed the pen into the bottle of. ink he had just reached iown from the shelf over his head. ' Mother, get to that telephone." Reluctantly I did as he asked me. md 'phoned Patsy arul Mabel Rivers ind asked them to let the neighbours know so that no one would come. " Don't worry about anyone coming," said Mabel cheerfully; " It's been ill through the school and we've all bad it in the house. I'll be across in ■i day or so to look you up." Mabel was as good as her word and m> were all the other neighbours. Really I felt quite ashamed of the n umber of pretty and dainty delicacies they orought.to tempt Dad's appetite.

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" You should be ashamed," I remarked severely, " imposing on your friends like this."

It was Thursday afternoon, the day Aunt Agatha should have arrived, and we were sitting in the bedroom in front of the fire. Dad spent his days there lazily toasting himself and reading, a favourite pastime of his. He _ was clad in pyjamas and a warm dressing gown, and was prepared at a moment's notice to tumble back into bed, if a too insistant visitor insisted on taking a peep at the invalid. I kept them out when I could, but it was not always possible. Dnd was picking at a beautiful Spanish Cream that Mabel Rivers had sent across.

" Aren't you ashamed? " I repeated. " I suppose I should be," ho said cheering up for a moment. " It's a great life this invalid life," he added, " if only it wasn't for my infernal head. How long do I have to stay cooped up here, Mother? "

" Oh, about a week," I said vaguely. Dad groaned. But I was not paying much attention to him for the moment. I was listening. I thought I heard a car coining up our drive.

"It's this being shut up does it. I can't stand being inside. I've had a bad head for three days now. If its not better in the morning I'm going outside, I don't care whether it's time or not," he said truculently. " And I'm sick of these pretty dishes," he added in petulant tones, as he pushed away the dish of Spanish Cream, hardly touched. " There is only one thing I really want," continued Dad plaintively, as he stared at the dish he had pushed away, '* and that is a tomato. No one has brought me a tomato, and I do like tomatoes."

"The ideal" I exclaimed. " Why no one has any in the middle of winter like this."

" They've got them in town, hot house ones," said Dad. " But the price! You couldn't expect it!"

" Well, I do think Aunt Agatha might have stumped up a small case for an ailing nephew! " All the while Dad had been talking I had been anxiously listening for the car I had thought I heard. To tell the truth I was worried about Dad. For all his cheerfulness and his unholy joy at the success of his plan he had not been well the last two days. Of course it might be the staying inside when he was not used to it, but Dad was usually so healthy that I felt a bit concerned. So concerned in fact, that though he scorned the idea of a doctor I had sent for one without telling him. I held my breath for a moment while I listened more carefully. I breathed again, a sigh of relief this time. It was a car I had heard. It would be the doctor. I'll go and meet him, I thought, as I glanced out the window. I hurried out to the yard just in time to see the car pull up. " Why!" I exclaimed in surprise. " Hallo Patsy," "No he is not very well," I said in answer to her query. Then before I could say anything else she had darted into Dad's bedroom before he had a chance to flop back into bed.

" Hallo, Ted, up a bit I see. Not much the matter, eh." "Oh, I'm mending slowly, slowly, Patsy," said Dad in would-be melancholy tones. Then he went on forcefully in his normal voice, " If only it wasn't for this infernal head of mine." " Well, Ted," said Patsy, " I've been to town —and I've brought you a thank offering for delivering me from Aunt Agatha." " What is it?" asked Dad, his eyes lighting as he saw the paper bag she held in her hand. "Tomatoes," said Patsy in important tones. " I know you like them. They were a wicked price," she added with a grin, " but Aunt Agatha won't be coming, so they were worth it." "Patsy, you're a brick! Tomatoes! Just the thing I've been wanting." "Honk!" Ho-o-n-n-k!" Hastily I glanced out ot the window and saw Mr. Jacks, our local garage proprietor and occasional taxi service, pull up with a flourish. " Here is Mr. Jacks," I said. "Good gracious!" Horrified I watched while he opened the rear door of the car and out climbed a heavy, ponderous elderly woman. "Aunt Agatha!" I gasped. " Quick, Dad, get into bed." " I'fn going," shrieked Patsy as Dad scrambled between the sheets. " Here are your tomatoes," and dropping them in Dad's chair she fled through the house. I stayed to see him safely in bed and then went out to meet my guest. But she was already at the bedroom door. " I came straight in," she said as she placed a frigid peck on my cheek. " I knew I would find such a devoted wife in the sick room. Well, Edward, and how do you feel now?" " Oh," gasped Dad, " But Aunt Agatha, you shouldn't have come. You shouldn't have risked it. You've not had measles, I know, for you told me you had never had any of these childish complaints." " No, neither I have," said Aunt Agtha, majestically, as soon as she could interrupt Dad. " But there is no risk. It is not measles that is the matter with you, Edward, you had them when you were a baby and no one ever gets them twice. I remertiber well when you had them, because I was staying with your dear mother at the time and I remember how hurriedly 1 had to leave. No, Edward, it is not measles. The rash you have is caused by the injurious food you eat." I thought hysterically of the dish of Spanish Cream he had left and of the chops I had in the cupboard to cook for his tea. " So," continued Aunt Agatha, Ive come to be a support to Eleanor during the trying time of your convalescence. Now that you are so ill perhaps you will realise the truth of what I say about diet. 1 shall supervise your diet myself and see that you eat only health giving foods. .No meat or such like disgusting things. And to make suro that you have the proper attention and the proper foods I have cancelled my trip to the South Island." I waited breathless for an explosion from Dad. But the interruption came from another source. With a gasp of relief I noticed that yet another car had pulled up in our back yard. " Here is the doctor," I said hurriedlv. With Aunt Agatha there, Dad couldn't protest. " And a good thing, too," said Aunt Agatha, "you mark my words. Edward. he'll bear me out. It's not measles, it's ill-health that is the matter .with you." I hurried away to let the doctor in. leaving Aunt Agatha still holding forth on the merits of dieting. " Well, doctor, what is it?" I asked at last, a trifle anxiously, as he finished examining and prodding at Dad. " Nothing much, Mrs. Bowen," he grinned. " I wonder you bothered to send for me. It is only measles." " But—but—doctor, it can't possibly be." gasped Aunt Agatha in terrified tones. " He has had them once when he was a baby and no one ever gets them twice." " Oh," said the doctor cheerfully. " this is only German measles. Quite a minor complaint. You can have it ever so many times. I know one woman who has had it five times. I've had it twice myself," he added complacently. " There is no doubt about it at all. It is measles all right." "Aunt Agatha!" Dad and I screamed at onee. But it was too late. When a woman as heavy as Aunt Agatha gets past a certain point, no power on earth will stop her sitting down. In her agitation she flopped into the arm-chair so recently occupied by Dad. Dad give a faint groan, and turned his face to the wall. "My tomatoes, oh, my precious tomatoes," he moaned.