A's Points Story: Goose Fat

It was a cold winter that year at Whithorse; the wind sobbed and cried and shook the windows of the great house, trying to gain entrance and bring the snow in with it. But inside the nursery all was warm and cozy. The fire burned invitingly in the grate, its flames shining off the copper kettle on the hob. Ansella sat with her carpet-slippered feet on the fender, wrapped in a warm shawl with her knitting on her lap. Near her on the hearth rug sat almost-eight-year-old Ellika; she was gravely attempting to make neat stitches in a redwork sampler, her little pink tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.

Nurse came bustling in, carrying a tray heaped with flannels, jars, a cup, and a little steaming pot. “Here I am, ma’am, and none too soon I’m betting! Poor lamb!” She put the little pot on the hob opposite the kettle; an enticing smell of garlicky beef broth rose from it before she straightened its lid.

“Don’t cosset him over-much, Nurse--he’s not a baby any more,” said the queen.

Six-year-old Temmin’s pathetic little cough came from the next room, and Ellika flinched. “Oh, but Mama,” she said, “he’s so mis’able! Can’t I cossek him a little, even if Nurse shouldn’t?”

“It’s ‘cosset,’ my puss,” said her mother. “And you may cosset him all you please.”

“Here, little miss,” said Nurse, handing her the stack of flannels. “You may be my assistant.”

“Assistant to what?” said nine-year-old Sedra, coming into the room still wearing her snowy out-of-doors clothing but with carpet slippers on her feet. She pulled off her mittens and set them on the rack near the fire to dry.

“Good heavens, missy!” cried Nurse. “You will catch your death! What have you been doing! You’re as bad as your mother at your age!” Ansella smiled, and Nurse immediately began to strip Sedra of her snow-damp woolens until she stood shivering in her chemise. “Now into your room, young lady, and a nice dry wrapper! March!”

“Oh, honestly!” said Sedra in irritation, “I was just out for a walk!” But she obediently went to her room and came back in a thick, bright red flannel wrapper, sitting down in the arm chair across from her mother. She picked up a book on the table next to her chair and curled up with her feet underneath her.

“I am going to help Nurse take care of Temmy,” Ellika announced to her sister.

“What’s wrong with him?” said Sedra, looking up from her book of Corrish fairy tales.

“I habba code!” said Temmin from his adjoining room, adding a cough for dramatic effect.

“Pfft,” said Sedra, returning to her book. “He’s faking.”

“Oh, how can you say that! He could die!” said Ellika with a dramatic little stomp.

“I didn’t say anything!” said her sister, nose-down in the book.

“That’s enough, girls,” said Ansella. “Ellika, if you’re going to help Nurse, go be about it.” Ellika turned on one small heel and flounced into the sick room with her bundle of flannels. “He is laying it on a bit thick,” the queen whispered to Sedra, “but he really isn’t feeling well, and we’re going to let him take a little advantage, dear. Everyone needs to be petted now and again.”

Ellika found Nurse clucking next to Temmin’s bedside, opening various jars and putting them on the bedside table. The bed curtains were drawn. Temmin was buried in his featherbed, the top of his blond head, his blue eyes and his red nose peeping out. “Now, then, my darling,” Nurse cooed. “Sit up, dear. Let’s get some good beef tea into you.”

“Dode like beef dee,” said the very stuffy Temmin from the depths of the coverlet.

“It’s good for you, Temmy. Would you like it better if I fed it to you?” wheedled Ellika. Sedra gave a snort from the nursery, but Ellika ignored her.

“S’pose dat’s a’right,” said Temmin, slowly sitting up. Nurse tied a flannel around his neck, and Ellika began to spoon the hot broth into him, carefully blowing on each steaming spoonful. Most of it even ended up in his mouth.

“Now,” said Nurse, briskly removing the broth-stained flannel and wiping his chin with it, “time for some goose fat on your chest, my lamb, then we’ll cover it with brown paper and a nice woolen flannel and off to sleep with you.”

“Nod goose fat, Nursie! Id smells so bad!” wailed Temmin. “I feel bedder! Druly!”

But Nurse fixed him with her sternest glare, and Temmin meekly unbuttoned his nightshirt. She slathered his chest thoroughly with fat from the earthenware jar labeled “goose” that held pride of place in her medicine cabinet, slapped a piece of brown paper on top, and covered the whole with a huge piece of wool flannel kept in place with a shawl pin.

“Ig,” said Temmin.

But he slept all that afternoon and into the next morning, waking up with a ferocious appetite and a cleared nose. Ellika, on the other hand, took to her bed with a terrible cold and cough, so stuffy that her poor little nose looked like a very pretty beet. “Quiet, lovey, I’ve got my goose fat and you’ll be better in no time,” clucked Nurse.

“I’ll nebber play nurse again!” swore Ellika.