I am tired, and half sick; a great cold, for which I shall
lie by here tomorrow.
Thine,
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
City of Washington,
26th September, 1795.
Since Tuesday last I have been here much against my will; arrested by
high command; performing quarantine by authority not to be questioned
or controverted. In plain English, I am sick. On Wednesday I found one
side of my face as large as your uncle F.'s; red swollen eyes; ears
buzzing and almost stopped; throat so closed as to refuse a passage to
words out or food in; and a stupid mazy-headedness, well adapted to
the brilliancy of my figure. Being the guest of my friends Law and
Duncanson, I receive from them the most distressing attentions, but
especially from Miss Duncanson, a well-bred, sprightly, and agreeable
woman. My person had not, however, till this morning, received its
last embellishment. Alexis came in at his usual hour, and presenting
himself at my bedside, after staring at me for half a minute,
exclaimed, with an air of great astonishment--_Diable!_ and not a word
more. _Qu'a-t-il_, Alexis? To which he made not a word of reply, but
fell to drawing up the curtains; and having also very deliberately
opened the window-shutters, he returned again to his examination.
After gazing for some time (which I found it useless to interrupt), he
_diabled_ two or three times at intervals of some seconds, and then
pronounced that I had _ou la petite verole ou la rougeole_; and to
convince me, brought a glass.
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