Saturday, November 1, 1902
I have such a sore throat that I am hoarse today and, of course, Mother did notice. So I am in bed with a strip of flannel wrapped around my throat and she is going to make me a mustard plaster. Bird is supposed to keep Davy away from me, but I think he might have already caught it. He is too quiet and he comes and leans against me. Bird tried to coax him away, but he just put his head down on my shoulder and started to whimper. She brought a picture book to show him, but he fell asleep before she’d turned the page.
Sunday, November 2, 1902
I do feel very sick, too sick to write. They’ve moved Davy in with Mother. My chest hurts when I take a deep breath. John told me to stop making a fuss over nothing. I wanted to hit him but I hadn’t the strength. I think I heard Mother scolding him a few minutes later. Good!
Tuesday, November 11, 1902
I have something called bronchitis. I hope I will soon start getting better. I feel wretched. Even my pencil is too heavy to hold.