throat! It feels as if a red-hot poker was in it! And I can't drink water either! Oh, I know I am going to die!"
"Try oil—that's good for a burn," suggested one student, and he brought forth some cod liver oil. Nat hated cod liver oil almost as much as poison, but he was scared and took the dose without a murmur. It helped a little, but his throat felt far from comfortable and soon it commenced to burn as much as ever.
By this time Doctor Clay had been aroused and he came to the dormitory in a dressing gown and slippers.
"Nat Poole has been poisoned!" cried several.
"Poisoned!" ejaculated the master of the Hall. "How is this, Poole?" and he strode to the suffering pupil's side.
"I—I don't know," groaned Nat. "I—er—ate some mince pie and some salad"
"Perhaps it is only indigestion," was the doctor's comment. "You may get over it in a little while."
"But my throat" And then the dudish boy stopped short. The fire in his mouth and throat had suddenly gone down—like a tooth stopping its aching.
"What were you going to say?" asked Doctor Clay.
"Why, I—that is—my throat isn't so bad now."
