compare Menu buried under his thick cloak, the saddie-bags of the ass and Jeli's sacks shook as the leaves do in November, in spite of the great blaze of branches which made his face white as a corpse.
The contadini of the farm came to ask him,—
"How do you think you feel, compare Menu?"
The poor man could only answer with a whine like a sucking puppy.
"It's a kind of malaria that kills more surely than a rifle bullet," said his friends, as they warmed their hands at the fire.
The doctor was called, but it was money thrown away, because the disease is one of those clear and evident ones which even a boy would know how to cure; unless the fever happens to be so severe that it will kill at any rate, a little quinine cures it quickly.
Compare Menu spent the eyes of his head for quinine but it was as good as thrown down a well.
