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 woman who could mumble a little English, and pretended to have some knowledge of the healing art.

There was a hurried consultation between husband and wife, the little woman declaring that she could not do a thing,—not even stay in the house when those bleeding burns were dressed.

While they talked, Nattie recovered sense sufficient to hear, and partly comprehend, the dismay of the kind people who had taken her in.

"I don't want any French one to come," she said, evincing a strong dread as she spoke the words. "If you would give me a drink of broth, and put me away into some back room, where I could be safe, with a little oil for my burns, I think I could go to sleep and get rested."

"Sleep!" cried the poor, frightened woman; "why, girl, you are burned half to death; your clothes are almost consumed, your hair is singed, and your arms are all bloody! You must have been through a dreadful fire. Where do you