RECOLLECTIONS OF FULL YEARS
tion to all of this there was a seething mass of very dirty and very noisy humanity which kept out of our way and regarded us with anything but friendly looks.
I had left my husband apparently perfectly well, but I subsequently learned that the night after I left Manila he developed the first symptoms of his illness. It was diagnosed at first as dengue fever, a disease quite common in the Philippines which, though exceedingly disagreeable, is not regarded as dangerous. It was about two weeks before a correct diagnosis was made, and it was then discovered that he was suffering from an abscess which called for a serious emergency operation. He was taken to the First Reserve Army hospital and the operation was performed by Dr. Rhoads, the Army surgeon who afterward became his aide when he was President.
The children must have been much frightened. They had never seen their father ill before, and he told me afterward that he should never forget the way they looked as he was being carried out of Malacañan on a stretcher borne by six stalwart American policemen. They were all huddled together in the great hall as he passed through, and while Bob and Charlie were gazing at the proceedings in open-eyed astonishment, Helen was weeping.
For twenty-four hours after the operation the doctors were not at all certain that their patient would live, nor did their anxiety end at that time. The abscess was of long growth, the wound had to be made a terrible one, and there was great danger of blood poisoning. Mr. Taft rallied but a second operation was necessary. By the time I reached Manila he was well on the way to recovery, though even then there was no prospect of his being able to move for many weeks to come.
He used to lie on his cot in the hospital and recite to his visitors a verse of Kipling's which he thought fitted his case exactly:
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