"Your daughter has a touch of malaria," said a physician to a New York lady; "I will call again in the morning."
The mother then went to her daughter's room with a look of great anxiety on her face, and said:
"My dear, the doctor says you have malaria. What is it? Is it dangerous?"
"Not very, mamma, and oh, it's so aristocratic! I will wear my blue silk wrapper, and we must get some cut glass bottles for the medicines, and if any of the Snuffles girls call have them brought to my room. It will take them down a peg or two, I can tell you."
And the sick young woman looked the very picture of happiness and content.— Philadelphia Evening Call.
