Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson Read Free Book Online

harrumphed and set the pudding over the fire. "Don't know which is worse, you moaning or your mother staring out the window, hoping someone will walk in and lay a shilling on the table. We have ugly days ahead of us. No sugar for anyone, rich or poor, no-no."
    I fanned myself with the wooden spoon. "Grandfather says this trouble will soon be over. He says people don't have gumption anymore."
    Eliza mumbled something under her breath that I couldn't quite hear. When it came to strong-headed opinions, Eliza, my mother, and my grandfather were evenly matched. She untied her apron and hung it from the hook.
    "Where are you going?" I asked. "Grandfather and I could run any errand you need."
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    "Not this errand, you couldn't." Eliza reached for her pretty straw hat. "The Free African Society is having a meeting about the fever. It should prove a lively gathering. I'll return in time for supper."
    Out back, the door of the necessary slammed.
    "Mattie Cook!" called Grandfather. "Must I wait all day?"
    Andrew Brown's print shop smelled of ink and grease and the sweat of muscular apprentices carrying trays of lead type from the composing table to the printing press. When I was a child, Mr. Brown let me pick out letters and set them in the form. It had been a thrill seeing my words in print.
    The printer issued no invitation to me that morning. He was deep in conversation with Mr. Carris as we entered.
    "What news, William?" Mr. Brown asked. "Packed your bags for a trip to the country?" He wiped his hands on his apron and sent an apprentice for a bucket of ale.
    Grandfather banged his cane on the floor.
    "I didn't run from the redcoats, and I won't run from a dockside miasma. What is wrong with people, Andrew? We suffered all kinds of disease in our youth, but folks were sensible. They didn't squall like children and hide in the woods."
    Mr. Carris cleared his throat.
    "If the yellow fever were a soldier, you'd run it
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    through with your famous sword and sit down to a hearty dinner. But there may be cause for caution, old friend. Listen to the mayor's orders which Andrew has just printed." He picked up a broadsheet and read:
    "ON ADVICE FROM THE COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS:
    1. ALL PERSONS SHOULD AVOID THOSE THAT ARE
    INFECTED.
    2. THE HOMES OF THE SICK SHOULD BE MARKED.
    3. SlCK PEOPLE SHOULD BE PLACED IN THE CENTER
    OF LARGE AIRY ROOMS WITHOUT CURTAINS
    AND SHOULD BE KEPT CLEAN.
    4. WE MUST SUPPLY A HOSPITAL FOR THE POOR.
    5- ALL BELL TOLLING SHOULD CEASE IMMEDIATELY.
    6. THE DEAD SHOULD BE BURIED PRIVATELY.
    7- THE STREETS AND WHARVES MUST BE KEPT CLEAN.
    8. ALL PERSONS SHOULD AVOID FATIGUE OF THE
    BODY AND MIND.
    9- ALL PERSONS SHOULD AVOID BEING IN THE SUN,
    DRAFTS, AND EVENING AIR.
    10. ALL PERSONS SHOULD DRESS APPROPRIATELY
    FORTHE WEATHER.
    11. ALL PERSONS SHOULD CONSUME ALCOHOL IN
    MODERATION."
    "I'm glad they'll stop ringing the bells," I said.
    "Sensible advice, most of it," Grandfather said. "Still, I don't understand why so many run scared."
    "They've taken over Rickett's Circus building on Twelfth Street to house the poor," said Mr. Brown.
    "Isn't that why we have an almshouse?" asked Grandfather.
    "The almshouse is closed. They want to protect their residents from the disease. So the fever victims lie on the floor of Rickett's with little water and no care. Once a day they remove the bodies for burial. A neighbor threatened to burn the place down if the sick are not removed," explained Mr. Carris.
    "But where will they go?" asked Grandfather.
    "No one knows."
    I hadn't heard about that. They were burying fever victims every day?
    "How many have died, Mr. Carris?" I asked.
    He turned to Mr. Brown.
    "How many dead, Andrew?"
    Mr. Brown shrugged. "It's hard to say with certainty."
    "I've heard several hundred, at least," said Mr. Carris.
    Grandfather paused. "Even a few hundred isn't enough to call it an epidemic," he said.
    "Some doctors warn we may see a thousand dead before it's over. There are forty-thousand people living