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Show Nettie, Page 59 foreign to Nettie's nature, Mama felt particularly sorrowful for her. To try to rouse her from her languor, Mama often sat and brushed Nettie's golden hair, gently pulling the brush through the strands until they shone and fanned out on the pillow, framing the pale face. Nettie would make an effort to be companionable, but it cost her dearly and she soon closed her eyes and drifted with the fever that would not give her peace. It was while Mama was brushing Nettie's hair one day that she noticed Nettie's arms seemed odd to her. Though Nettie had certainly lost both appetite and weight with this severe illness, her arms seemed plump to Mama and she examined them closely. They were definitely swollen. "Jeannette, do your arms hurt?" Mama questioned gently. "No, Mama, they feel heavy, but they don't hurt," Nettie spoke in an uncommonly quiet voice that made Mama wince. "My legs feel heavy, too." Mama pulled back the quilt to reveal Nettie's legs and gasped. "Oh, child, they are so swollen," Mama could think of nothing else to do except apply cold damp cloths on the swollen limbs. For several days Mama and Papa waited and watched over Nettie, praying the swelling would go down, hoping for a sign of returning vigor to Nettie's flushed countenance. The knees and elbows especially swelled to extreme proportions and Nettie began to moan gently with the pain. Her fever rose again and most of the time she seemed delirious and knew no one. Papa once again summoned the elders and Doc Cramer. The elders annointed the pathetically swollen child and promised her long life and health and Papa was hard put to believe them, but he |