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diff --git a/38752.txt b/38752.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9bffedc --- /dev/null +++ b/38752.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8116 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of a Doctor's Telephone--Told by +His Wife, by Ellen M. Firebaugh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Story of a Doctor's Telephone--Told by His Wife + +Author: Ellen M. Firebaugh + +Release Date: February 3, 2012 [EBook #38752] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DOCTOR'S TELEPHONE *** + + + + +Produced by Norbert H. Langkau, Jana Srna and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + [ Transcriber's Notes: + + Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully + as possible, including inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation. + Some corrections of spelling and punctuation have been made. They + are listed at the end of the text. + + Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. + ] + + + + + THE STORY OF A DOCTOR'S + TELEPHONE--TOLD + BY HIS WIFE + + BY + ELLEN M. FIREBAUGH + Author of "The Physician's Wife" + + BOSTON, MASS.: + THE ROXBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY + (Incorporated) + + + Copyrighted, 1912 + By Ellen M. Firebaugh + + All rights reserved + + + + +TO MY HUSBAND + + + + +TO THE READER. + + +The telephone has revolutionized the doctor's life. + +In the old days when a horse's galloping hoofs were heard people looked +out of their windows and wondered if that wasn't someone after a doctor! +The steed that Franklin harnessed bears the message now, and comments +and curiosity are stilled. In the old days thunderous knocks came often +to the doctor's door at night; they are never heard now, or so rarely as +to need no mention. Neighbors have been awakened by these importunate +raps: they sleep on undisturbed now. + +The doctor's household enjoys nothing of this sweet immunity. A +disturbing factor is within it that makes the thunderous knocks of old +pale into insignificance. + +When the telephone first came into the town where our doctor lived he +had one put in his office of course, for if anyone in the world needs a +'phone it is the doctor and the people who want him. By and by he +bethought him that since his office was several blocks from his +residence he had better put one in there, too, because of calls that +come in the night. So it was promptly installed. The doctor and his wife +found their sleep disturbed far oftener than before. People will not +dress and go out into the night to the doctor's house unless it is +necessary. But it is an easy thing to step to the 'phone and call him +from his sleep to answer questions--often needless--and when several +people do the same thing in the same night, as frequently happens, it is +not hard to see what the effect may be. + +One day the doctor had an idea! He would connect the two 'phones. It +would be a handy thing for Mary to be able to talk to him about the +numberless little things that come up in a household without the trouble +of ringing central every time, and it would be a handy thing for him, +too. When he had to leave the office he could just 'phone Mary and she +could keep an ear on the 'phone till he got back. + +About this time another telephone system was established in the +town--the Farmers'. Now a doctor's clientele includes many farmers, so +he put one of the new 'phones into his office. By and by he reflected +that farmers are apt to need to consult a physician at night--he must +put in a Farmers' 'phone at home, too. And he did. Then he connected it +with the office. + +When the first 'phone went up Mary soon accustomed herself to its +call--three rings. When her husband connected it with the office the +rings were multiplied by three. One ring meant someone at the office +calling central. Two rings meant someone calling the office. Three rings +meant someone calling the residence, as before. Mary found the three +calls confusing. When the Farmers' 'phone was installed and the same +order of rings set up, she found the original ring multiplied by six. +This was confusion worse confounded. To be sure the bell on the Farmers' +had a somewhat hoarser sound than that on the Citizens' 'phone, but +Mary's ear was the only one in the household that could tell the +difference with certainty. The clock in the same room struck the half +hours which did not tend to simplify matters. When a new door-bell was +put on the front door Mary found she had eight different rings to +contend with. But it is the bells of the Telephone with which we are +concerned and something of their story will unfold as we proceed. + +When the doctor was at home and the 'phone would ring he would start +toward the adjoining room where the two hung and stop at the first. + +Mary would call "Farmers'!" and he would move on to the next. Perhaps at +the same instant the tall boy of the household whose ear was no more +accurate than that of his father would shout "Citizens'!" and the doctor +would stop between the two. + +"_Farmers'!_" the wife would call a second time, with accrued emphasis. +Then she would laugh heartily and declare: + +"Any one coming in might think this a sort of forum where orations were +being delivered," and sometimes she would go on and declaim: + +"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears--my husband has borrowed +mine." + +So the telephone in the doctor's house--so great a necessity that we +cannot conceive of life without it, so great a blessing that we are +hourly grateful for it, is yet a very great tyrant whose dominion is +absolute. + +I had a pleasing picture in my mind in the writing of this chronicle, of +sitting serene and undisturbed in a cosy den upstairs, with all the +doors between me and the 'phone shut tight where no sound might intrude. +In vain. Without climbing to the attic I could not get so far away that +the tintinnabulation that so mercilessly wells from those bells, bells, +bells did not penetrate. + +I hope my readers have not got so far away from their Poe as to imagine +that ringing sentence to be mine. And I wonder if a still greater glory +might not crown his brow if there had been telephone bells to celebrate +in Poe's day. + +So I gave up the pleasant dream, abandoned the cosy den and came down +stairs to the dining room where I can scatter my manuscript about on the +big table, and look the tyrants in the face and answer the queries that +arise, and can sandwich in a good many little odd jobs besides. + +Through a doctor's telephone how many glimpses of human nature and how +many peeps into the great Story of Life have been mine; and if, while +the reader is peeping too, the scene suddenly closes, why that is the +way of telephones and not the fault of the writer. + +And knowing how restful a thing it has been to me to get away from the +ringing of the bell at times, I have devised a rest for the reader also +and have sent him with the doctor and his wife on an occasional country +drive where no telephone intrudes. + + E. M. F. + +Robinson, Ill. + + + + +The Story of a Doctor's Telephone + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The hands of the clock were climbing around toward eleven and the doctor +had not returned. Mary, a drowsiness beginning to steal over her, looked +up with a yawn. Then she fell into a soliloquy: + + To bed, or not to bed--that is the question: + Whether 'tis wiser in the wife to wait for a belated spouse, + Or to wrap the drapery of her couch about her + And lie down to pleasant dreams? + To dream! perchance to sleep! + And by that sleep to end the headache + And the thousand other ills that flesh is heir to, + The restoration of a wilted frame,-- + Wilted by loss of sleep on previous nights-- + A consummation devoutly to be wished. + To dream! perchance to sleep!--aye, there's the rub; + For in that somnolence what peals may come + Must give her pause. There is the telephone + That makes calamity of her repose. + Her spouse may not have come to answer it, + Which means that she, his wife, must issue forth + All dazed and breathless from delicious sleep, + And knock her knees on intervening chairs, + And bump her head on a half open door, + And get there finally all out of breath, + And take the receiver down and say: "Hello?" + The old, old question: "Is the doctor there?" + Comes clearly now to her awakened ear. + Then, tentatively, she must make reply: + "The doctor was called out an hour ago, + But I expect him now at any time." + Good patrons should be held and not escape + To other doctors that may lie in wait; + For in this voice so brusque and straight and clear + She recognizes an old friend and true, + Whose purse is ever ready to make good, + And she hath need of many, many things. + But then, again, the message of the 'phone + May be that of some stricken little child + Whose mother's voice trembles with love and fear. + Then must the listener earnestly advise: + "Don't wait for him! Get someone else to-night." + Perchance again the message may be that + Of colics dire and death so imminent + That she who listens, tho' with 'customed ear, + Shrinks back dismayed and knows not what to say, + Lacking the knowledge and profanity + Of him who, were he there, would settle quick + This much ado about much nothingness. + And so these anticipatory peals + Reverberate through fancy as she sits, + And make her rather choose to bear the ills + She has than fly to others she may meet; + To wait a little longer for her spouse, + That, when at last she does retire to rest, + She may be somewhat surer of her sleep. + And so she sits there waiting for the step + And the accompanying clearing of the throat + Which she would know were she in Zanzibar. + And by-and-by he comes and fate is kind + And lets them slumber till the early dawn. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Ten P.M. The 'phone is ringing and the sleepy doctor gets out of bed and +goes to answer it. + +"Hello." + +No response. + +"Hello!" + +Silence. + +"Hello!!" + +"Is this Doctor Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"I want you to come out to my house--my wife's sick." + +"Who is it?" + +"Jim Warner. Come just as--" + +A click in the receiver. + +The doctor waits a minute. Then he says "Hello." No answer. He waits +another minute. "_Hell-o!!_" + +Silence. "Damn that girl--she's cut us off." He hangs up the receiver +and rings the bell sharply. He takes it down and hears a voice say +leisurely, "D'ye get them?" + +"Yes! What in h-ll did you cut us off for?" + +"Wait a minute--I'll ring 'em again," says the voice, hasty and +obliging, so potent a thing is a man's unveiled wrath. She rings 'em +again. Soon the same voice says, "Are you there yet, Doctor?" + +"Yes, _now_ what is it!" + +The voice proceeds and the doctor listens putting in an occasional "Yes" +or "No." Then he says, "All right--I'll be out there in a little bit." +He hangs up the receiver and his wife falls asleep again. The doctor +dresses and goes out. The house is in darkness. All is still. In about +five minutes Mary is suddenly, sharply awake. A slight noise in the +adjoining room! She listens with accelerated heart-beats. The doctor has +failed to put on the night latch. Some thief has been lying in wait +watching for his opportunity, and now he has entered. What can she do. +Muffled footsteps! she pulls the sheet over her head, her heart beating +to suffocation. The footsteps grope their way toward her room! Great +Heaven! A hand fumbles at the door knob. She shrieks aloud. + +"What on earth is the matter!" + +O, brusque and blessed is that voice! + +"John, you have nearly scared me to death," she says, sitting up in bed, +half laughing and half crying. "But I heard you tell that man you were +coming out there." + +"Yes. I told him I was." + +"Well, why didn't you go?" + +"I _did_ go." + +"You don't mean to tell me you have been a mile and back in five +minutes." + +The doctor flashed on the light and looked at his watch,--"Just an hour +since I left home," he said. Mary gasped. "Well, it only proves how +soundly I can sleep when I get a chance," she said. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +It is the office ring but Mary hurries at once to answer it. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's office?" + +"This is Mrs. Blank. But the doctor telephoned me about twenty minutes +ago that he would be out for half an hour. Call him again in ten or +fifteen minutes and I think you will find him." + +In about fifteen minutes the call is repeated. Mary would feel better +satisfied to know that the doctor received the message so she goes to +the 'phone and listens. Silence. She waits a minute. Shall she speak? +She hesitates. Struggle as she will against the feeling, she can't quite +overcome it--it seems like "butting in." But that long silence with the +listening ear at the other end of it is too much for her. Very +pleasantly, almost apologetically she asks, "What is it?" + +"The doctor hasn't come yet?" says a plainly disappointed voice. + +"No--not yet. There are often unexpected things to delay him--if you +will give me your number or your name I will have him call _you_." + +"No, I'll just wait and call him again." The inflection says plainly, "I +don't care to admit the doctor's wife into my confidences." + +"Very well. I am sure it can't be long now till he returns." + +Mary goes back to her chair and ponders a little. Of what avail to +multiply words. No use to tell the woman 'phoning that she was willing +to take the waiting and the watching, the seeing that the doctor +received the message upon herself rather than that the other should be +again troubled by it. No use to let her gently understand that she +doesn't care for any confidences which belong only to her husband, but +Fate has placed her in a position where she has oftentimes to seem +unduly interested. That these messages which are only occasional with +the one calling are constant with her and that she is only mindful of +them when she must be. + + * * * * * + +"Watch the 'phone." How thoroughly instilled into Mary's consciousness +that admonition was! She did not heed the office ring when it came, but +if it came a second time she always went to explain that the doctor had +just stepped over to the drug store probably and would be back in a very +few minutes. Often, as she stood explaining, the doctor himself would +break into the conversation, having been in another room when the first +call came, and getting there a little tardily for the second. But +occasions sometimes arose which made Mary feel very thankful that she +had been at the 'phone. One winter morning as she stood explaining to +some woman that the doctor would be in in a few minutes, her husband's +"Hello" was heard. + +"There he is now," she said. Usually after this announcement she would +hang up the receiver and go about her work. Today a friendly interest in +this pleasant voice kept it in her hand a moment. Mary would not have +admitted idle curiosity, and perhaps she had as little of it as falls to +the lot of women, but sometimes she lingered a moment for the message, +to know if the doctor was to be called away, so that she might make her +plans for dinner accordingly. The pleasant voice spoke again, "This is +Dr. Blank, is it?" + +"Yes." + +"We want you to come out to Henry Ogden's." + +"That's about five miles out, isn't it. Who's sick out there?" + +"Mrs. Ogden." + +"What's the matter?" + +No reply. + +"How long has she been sick?" + +"She began complaining last night." + +"All right--I'll be out some time today." + +"Come right away, please, if you can." + +This is an old, old plea. The doctor is thoroughly inured to it. He +would have to be twenty men instead of one to respond to it at all +times. He answers cheerfully, "All right," and Mary takes alarm. That +tone means sometime in the next few hours. She feels sure he ought to go +_now_. Somebody else can wait better than this patient. There was a kind +of hesitancy in that voice that Mary had heard before. A woman's +intuitions are much safer guides than a man's slow reasoning. She must +speak to John. She rings the office. + +"Hello." + +"Say, John," she says in a low voice, "I came to the 'phone thinking you +were out and heard that message. I think you ought to go out there right +_away_." + +"Well, I'm going after a little." + +"But I don't think you ought to wait. I'm sure it's--_you_ know." + +"Well,--maybe I had better go right out." + +"I wish you would. I know they'll be looking for you every minute." + +A few minutes later Mary saw him drive past and was glad. Half an hour +later the office ring sounded. She did not wait for the second peal. +True, John had not said, "Watch the 'phone," today, but that was +understood. Occasionally he got an old man who lived next door to the +office to come in and stay during his absence. Possibly he might have +done so today. But even if he were there the telephone and its ways were +a dark mystery to him and besides, his deafness made him of little use +in that direction. + +Mary took down the receiver and put it to her ear. A lady's voice was +asking, "Who _is_ this?" + +Mary knew from her inflection that she had asked something before and +was not satisfied with the reply. + +"_This_ is Dr. Blank's office?" announced the old man in a sort of +interrogative. + +"Well, where is the _doctor_?" + +"The doctor," said the old man meditatively, as if wondering that +anybody should be calling for him--"the doctor--you mean Dr. Blank, I +reckon?" + +"I certainly do." + +"Good Heavens," thought Mary, "why _don't_ he go on!" + +"Why, he's out." + +"Where _is_ he?" + +"He went to the country." + +Mary shut her lips tight. + +"_Well_, when will he be back?" + +"He 'lowed he'd be back in about an hour or so." + +"How long has he been _gone_? Maybe I'll get some information after a +while." + +Mary longed to speak. Why hadn't she done so at first. If she thrust +herself in now it would make her out an eavesdropper. But this was +unbearable. She opened her mouth to speak when the old man answered. + +"He's been gone over an hour now, I reckon." + +"Then he'll soon be back. Will you be there when he comes?" + +"Yes ma'am." + +"Then tell him to come up to Mrs. Dorlan's." + +"To Mrs. Who's?" + +"Mrs. _Dorlan's_." + +"I didn't ketch the name." + +"_Mrs. Dorlan's_, on Brownson street." + +"Mrs. Torren's?" + +"MISS-ES--DOR-LAN'S!" shouted the voice. + +Mary sighed fiercely and clinched her teeth unconsciously. "I _will_ +speak," she thought, when the old voice ventured doubtingly, + +"Mrs. Dorlan's?" + +"That's it. Mrs. Dorlan's on Brownson street, will you remember it?" + +"Mrs. Dorlan's, on Brownson street." + +"That's right. Please tell him just as soon as he comes to come right +up." + +"All right--I'll tell him." + +"Poor old fellow!" said Mary as she turned from the 'phone, "but I don't +want to go through any more ordeals like that. It was a good deal harder +for me than for the other woman." + +The doctor came down late to dinner. "You got Mrs. Dorlan's message did +you?" + +"Yes, I'll go up there right after dinner." He looked at his wife with +peculiar admiration. + +"How did you know what was wanted with me out in the country?" he asked. + +With a little pardonable pride she replied: "Oh, I just felt it. Women +have ways of understanding each other that men never attain to. Is it a +boy or a girl added to the world today?" + +"Neither," said the doctor placidly, helping himself to a roll. + +Chagrin overspread her face. "Well," she said with an embarrassed smile, +"I erred on mercy's side, and it _might_ have happened in just that way, +John, and you know it." + +The doctor laughed. "There was mighty little the matter out there--they +didn't need a doctor." + +"Are they good pay?" + +"Good as old wheat." + +"Then there are compensations." + + * * * * * + +Some hours later when the 'phone rang, Mary went to explain that the +doctor had 'phoned her he would be out about twenty minutes. But she +found no chance to speak. A spirited dialogue was taking place between a +young man and a maid: + +"Where _are_ you, Jack?" + +"I'm right here." + +"Smarty! Where _are_ you!" + +"In Dr. Blank's office." + +"What are you there for?" + +"I'm waiting for the doctor and to while away the time thought I'd call +you up." + +Then it was his ring that Mary had answered. "I ought to hang this +receiver right up," thought she, but instead she held it, her face +beaming with a sympathetic smile. + +"Are you feeling better today, Dolly?" + +"Yes, I'm better." + +"Able to go to the show then, tonight?" + +"_Yes_, I'm able to go." + +Here a thin small voice put in, "No, you're not able! You're not going." + +"Mamma says,--" began a pouting voice. + +"I heard what she said," said Jack, laughing. "Have you been up all +day?" + +"Most of the day." + +"Can you eat anything?" + +"I ate an egg, some toast and some fruit for dinner." + +"That's fine. I'll bring you a box of candy then pretty soon--I'm coming +down in a little bit." + +"That will be lovely." + +"Which, the candy or the coming down?" + +"The candy, goose, of course." A laugh at both ends of the wire. + +Then Jack's voice. "Well, here comes the doctor. I've got to have my +neck amputated now. Goodbye." + +"Good-bye." + +"All's fair in love and war," said Mary, "and it's plain to see what +this is." Then she hung up the receiver without a qualm. + + * * * * * + +There were other times when the doctor's wife was glad she had gone to +the 'phone, as in this instance. + +She had taken down the receiver when a man's voice said, "The doctor +just stepped out for a few minutes. If you will tell me your name, +madam, I'll have him call you when he comes in." + +Disinterested courtesy spoke in his voice, but Mary was not in the least +surprised to hear the curt reply, "It won't be necessary. I'll call +_him_ when he comes." + +"I dare say that gentleman, whoever he may be, is wondering what he has +done," thought Mary. + +But it was not altogether unpleasant to her to hear somebody else +squelched, too! + + * * * * * + +There came a day when the doctor's wife rebelled. When her husband came +home and ate his supper hastily and then rose to depart, she said, +"You'd better wait at home a few minutes, John." + +"Why?" He put the question brusquely, his hat in his hand. + +"Because I think someone will ring here for you in a minute or two. Some +man rang the office twice so I went to the 'phone to explain that you +must be on your way to supper and he could find you here." + +"Who was it?" + +"I do not know." + +"Thunder! Why didn't you find out?" + +Mary looked straight at her husband. "How many times have I told you, +John, that many people decline to give their names or their messages to +any one but you. I think I should feel that way about it myself. For a +long time I have dutifully done your bidding in the matter, but now I +vow I will not trample my pride under my feet any longer--especially +when it is all in vain. I will watch the 'phone as faithfully as in the +past, but I will not ask for any name or any message. They will be given +voluntarily if at all." + +"All right, Mary," said the doctor, gently, seeing that she was quite +serious. + +"I do not mean to say that most of the people who 'phone are grouchy and +disagreeable--far from it. Indeed the majority are pleasant and +courteous. But it is those who are not who have routed me, and made me +vow my vow. Don't ask me to break it, John, for I will not." + +And having delivered this declaration, Mary felt almost as free and +independent as in ante-telephone days. + +The doctor had seated himself and leaning forward was swinging his hat +restlessly between his knees. He waited five minutes. + +"I'll have to get back to the office," he exclaimed, starting up. "I'm +expecting a man to pay me some money. Waiting for the 'phone to ring is +like watching for the pot to boil." + +When he had been gone a minute or two, the ring came. With a new step +Mary advanced to it. + +"Has the doctor got there yet?" the voice had lost none of its grouch. + +"He has. And he waited for your message which did not come. He could not +wait longer. He has just gone to the office. If you will 'phone him +there in two or three minutes, instead of waiting till he is called out +again, you will find him." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Blank." The man was surprised into courtesy. + +The clear-cut, distinct sentences were very different from the +faltering, apologetic ones, when she had asked for his name or his +message twenty minutes before. + +Mary's receiver clicked with no uncertain sound and a smile illumined +her face. + + * * * * * + +One day when the snow was flying and the wind was blowing a gale the +doctor came hurrying in. "Where is the soapstone?" he asked, with small +amenity. His wife flew to get it and laid it on the hearth very close to +the coals. "Oh dear! How terrible to go out in such a storm. Do you +_have_ to?" she asked. + +"I certainly do. Do you think I'd choose a day like this for a pleasure +trip?" + +"Aren't you glad you got that galloway?" she asked, hurrying to bring +the big, hairy garment from its hook in the closet. She helped her +husband into it, turned the broad collar up--then, when the soapstone +was hot, she wrapped it up and gave it to him. "This ought to keep your +feet from freezing," she said. The doctor took it, hurried out to the +buggy, pulled the robes up around him and was gone. + +"Eight miles in this blizzard!" thought Mary shivering, "and eight miles +back--sixteen miles. It will take most of the day." + +Two hours after the doctor had gone the telephone rang. + +"Is Dr. Blank there?" + +"No, he is in the country, about eight miles southwest." + +"This is Drayton. We want him at John Small's as soon as possible. How +soon do you think he will be back?" + +"Not for several hours, I am afraid." + +"Well, will you send him down as soon as he comes? We want him _bad_." + +Mary assured him she would do so. "Poor John," she thought as she put up +the receiver. + +In a few minutes she went hurriedly back. When she had called central, +she said, "I am very anxious to get Dr. Blank, central. He is eight +miles southwest of here--at the home of Thomas Calhoun. Is there a +'phone there?" Silence for a few seconds then a voice, "No, there is no +'phone at Thomas Calhoun's." + +Disappointed, Mary stood irresolute, thinking. Then she asked, + +"Is there a 'phone at Mr. William Huntley's?" + +"Yes, William Huntley has a 'phone." + +"Thank you. Please call that house for me." + +In a minute a man's voice said, "Hello." + +"Is this Mr. Huntley?" + +"Yes." + +"Mr. Huntley, this is Mrs. Blank. You live not far from Thomas +Calhoun's, do you not?" + +"About half a mile." + +"Dr. Blank is there, or will be very soon, and there is an urgent call +for him to go on to Drayton. I want to save him the long drive home +first. I find there is no 'phone at Mr. Calhoun's so I have called you +hoping you might be able to help me out. Perhaps someone of your family +will be going down that way and will stop in." + +"I'll go, myself." + +"It's too bad to ask any one to go out on a day like this--" + +"That's all right, Mrs. Blank. Doc's been pretty clever to me." + +"Tell him, please, to go to John Small's at Drayton. I am very deeply +obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Huntley," she said, hanging the +receiver in its place. + +"Eight miles back home, six miles from here to Drayton, six miles +back--twenty miles in all. Four miles from Calhoun's to Drayton, six +miles from Drayton home--ten miles saved on a blizzardy day," she +thought in the thankfulness of her heart. + +A few minutes later she was again at the 'phone. "Please give me John +Small's at Drayton." When the voice came she said, "I wanted to tell you +that the doctor will be there perhaps in about an hour now. I got your +message to him so that he will go directly to your house." + +"I'm mighty glad to know it. Thank you, Mrs. Blank, for finding him and +for letting us know." + +A terrible drive saved and some anxious hearts relieved. That dear +'phone! How thankful she was for it and for the country drives she had +taken with her husband which had made her familiar with the homes and +names of many farmers. Otherwise she could not have located her husband +this morning. One day like this covered a multitude of tyrannies from +the little instrument on the wall. + + * * * * * + +It was about half past seven. The doctor had thought it probable that he +could get off early this evening and then he and Mary and the boys would +have a game of whist. He had been called in consultation to W., a little +town in an adjoining county, but he would be home in a little bit--in +just ten minutes the train would be due. + +"O, there goes that 'phone," said the small boy wrathfully. "Now, I +s'pose papa can't get here!" + +His mother was already there with the receiver at her ear. + +"This is Dr. Blank's residence." + +"No, but he will be here in fifteen or twenty minutes." + +"To Drayton?" + +"Very well. I will give him your message as soon as he gets home. I'm +afraid that ends the game for tonight, boys," putting the receiver up. + +"Why, does papa have to go away?" + +"Yes, he has to drive six miles." + +"Gee-mi-nee--this dark night in the mud!" + +Here a thought flashed into Mary's mind--Drayton was on the same +railroad on which the doctor was rapidly nearing home--the next station +beyond. She flew to the telephone and rang with nervous haste. + +"Hello." + +"Is this the Big Four?" + +"Yes." + +"This is Mrs. Blank. Dr. Blank is on the train which is due now. He is +wanted at Drayton. When he gets off, will you please tell him?" + +"To go on to Drayton?" + +"Yes, to Alfred Walton's." + +"All right. I'll watch for him and see that he gets aboard again." + +"Thank you very much." + +The train whistled. "Just in time," said Mary. + +"But how'll papa get back?" asked the smaller boy. + +"He's got a tie-ticket," said his brother. + +"Yes, papa would rather walk back on the railroad than drive both ways +through this deep mud," said their mother. "I have heard him say so." + +Another ring. + +"Is the doctor there?" + +"He has just gone on the train to Drayton." + +"How soon will he be back?" + +"In an hour and a half, I should think." + +Mary heard the 'phoner say in an aside, "He won't be back for an hour +and a half. Do you want to wait that long?" + +Another voice replied, "Yes, I'll wait. Tell 'em to tell him to come +just as quick as he gets back, though." + +This message was transmitted. + +"And where is he to go?" + +"To Henry Smith's, down by the Big Four depot." + +A few minutes later Mary had another idea. She went to the 'phone and +asked central to give her Drayton, Mr. Walton's house. + +In a minute a voice said, "What is it?" It was restful to Mary to have +the usual opening varied. Perhaps eight out of ten began with, + +"Hello!" The other two began, "Yes," "Well," "What is it?" and very +rarely, "Good morning," or "Good evening." + +"Is this the home of Mr. Walton at Drayton?" + +"Yes." + +"Dr. Blank is there just now, isn't he?" + +"Yes, but he's just going away." + +"Will you please ask him to come to the 'phone?" + +In a minute her husband's voice was heard asking what was wanted. + +"I want to save you a long walk when you get home, John. You're wanted +at Henry Smith's down by the Big Four depot." + +"All right. I'll go in to see him when I get there. Much obliged." + +"A mile walk saved there," mused the doctor's wife, as she joined the +two boys, mildly grumbling because they couldn't have their game, and +never could have it just when they wanted it. But a few chapters from +Ivanhoe read to them by their mother made all serene again. + + * * * * * + +The Citizens' 'phone was ringing persistently. The doctor's wife had +been upstairs and could not get to it in less than no time! But she got +there. + +"Do you know where Dr. Blank is?" the words hurled themselves against +her ear. + +"I don't know just at this minute--but he's here in town. I'm sure of +that." + +"Why don't he _come_ then!" The sentence came as from a catapult. + +"I don't know anything about it. Where was he to go?" + +A scornful "_Huh!_" came over the wire--"I guess you forgot to tell +'im." + +"I have not been asked to tell him anything this morning." + +There was heated silence for an instant, then a voice big with wrath: + +"You told me not fifteen minutes ago that you would send him right +down." + +"You are mistaken," said Mary gently but firmly. "This is the first time +I have been at the 'phone this morning." + +"Well, what do you think of that!" This was addressed to someone at the +other end of the line, but it came clearly to Mary's ear and its +intonation said volumes. + +"You're the very identical woman that told me when I 'phoned awhile ago +that you'd send him right down. It's the very same voice." + +"There is a mistake somewhere," reiterated Mary, patiently, "but I'll +send the doctor as soon as he gets in if you will give me your name." + +"I'll tell ye agin, then, that he's to come to Lige Thornton's." + +"Very well. I'll send him," and Mary left the 'phone much mystified. +"She was in dead earnest--and so was I. I can't understand it." Glancing +out of the window she saw her tall, young daughter coming up the walk. +The solution came with lightning quickness--strange she didn't think of +that, Gertrude had answered. She remembered now that others had thought +their voices very much alike, especially over the 'phone. "If the woman +had not talked in such a cyclonic way I would have thought of it," she +reflected. + +When the young girl entered the room her mother said, "Gertrude, you +answered the 'phone awhile ago, didn't you?" + +"About twenty minutes ago. Some woman was so anxious for father to come +right away that I just ran down to the office to see that he _went_." + +"That was very thoughtful of you, dear, but it's little credit we're +getting for it." + +She related the dialogue that had just taken place and mother and +daughter laughed in sympathy. + +"Why, Mamma, we couldn't forget if we wanted to. That telephone is an +Old Man of the Sea to both of us--is now and ever shall be, world +without end." + +"But did you find your father at the office?" + +"Yes, and waited till he fixed up some medicine for two patients already +waiting, then shooed him out before some more came in. I wanted to get +it off _my_ mind." + +"I'm glad he is on his way. Now stay within hearing of the 'phone, +dearie, till I finish my work up-stairs." + +"All right, Mamma, I'm going to make a cake now, but I can hear the +'phone plainly from the kitchen." + +It wasn't long till a ring was heard. Gertrude dusted the flour from her +hands and started. "Which 'phone was it?" she asked the maid. + +"I think it was the Farmers'," said Mollie, hesitating. + +So to the Farmers' 'phone went Gertrude. + +"Hello." + +No answer. + +"Hello." + +Silence. + +She clapped the receiver up and hurried to the Citizens' 'phone. + +"Hello." + +"Is this Dr. Blank's?" + +"Yes." + +"Is he there?" + +"No, he was called--" Here a loud ring from the other 'phone sounded. + +"He was called down to--" said Gertrude rapidly, then paused, unable to +think of the name at the instant. + +"If you will tell me where he went, I'll just 'phone down there for +him," said the voice. + +A second peal from the other 'phone. + +"_Yes, yes!_" said Gertrude impatiently. "O, I didn't mean that for +you," she hurried apologetically. "The other 'phone is calling, and I'm +so confused I can't think. Will you excuse me just an instant till I see +what is wanted?" + +"Certainly." + +She flew to the Farmers' 'phone. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's?" + +"Yes." + +"Good while a-answerin'," grumbled a voice. + +"I did answer but no one answered _me_." + +"Where's the doctor?" + +"He's down in the east part of town--will be back in a little bit." + +"Well, when he comes tell him--just hold the 'phone a minute, will you, +till I speak to my wife." + +"All right." But she put the receiver swiftly up and rushed back to the +waiting man. She could answer him and get back by the time the other was +ready for her. + +"Hello, still there?" + +"Yes." + +"I've thought of the name--father went to Elijah Thornton's." + +"Thornton's--let's see--have you a telephone directory handy--could you +give me their number?" + +"Wait a minute, I'll see." She raced through the pages,--"yes, here it +is." + +A violent peal from the Farmers' 'phone. "He'll think I'm still hunting +for the number," she thought, letting the receiver hang and rushing to +the other 'phone. + +"Hello." + +"Thought you was a-goin' to hold the 'phone. I've had a turrible time +gittin' any answer." + +"I've had a turrible time, too," thought poor Gertrude. + +"Tell the doctor to call me up," and he gave his name and his number. + +"All right, I'll tell him." She clapped the receiver up lest there might +be more to follow and sped back. + +"Here it is," she announced calmly, "Elijah Thornton, number 101." + +"Thank you, I'm afraid I've put you to a good deal of trouble." + +"Not at all." + +As she went back to her cake she said to herself, "Two telephones +ringing at once can certainly make things interesting." + + * * * * * + +One day in mid winter Mary sat half dreaming before the glowing coals. +Snow had fallen all through the previous night and today there had been +good coasting for the boys and girls. + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +She started up and went to answer it. + +"Is this you, Mary?" + +"Yes." + +"I'll be out of the office about twenty minutes." + +"Very well." + +Sometimes Mary wished her husband would be a little more explicit. She +had a vague sort of feeling that central, or whoever should chance to +hear him make this announcement to her so often, might think she +requested or perhaps demanded it; might think she wanted to know every +place her husband went. + +In about half an hour the 'phone rang again, two rings. + +John ought to be back. Should she take it for granted? It would be safer +to put the receiver to her ear and listen for her husband's voice. + +"Hello." + +"Hello." + +"Is this you Dr. Blank?" + +"Looks like it." + +"We want ye to come down to our house right away." + +"Who is this?" + +"W'y, this is Mrs. Peters." + +"Mrs. Peters? Oh yes," said the doctor, recognizing the voice now. + +"What's the matter down there, grandmother?" + +"W'y--my little grandson, Johnny, was slidin' down hill on a board and +got a splinter in his setter." + +"He did, eh?" + +"Yes, he did, and a big one, too." + +"Well, I'll be down there right away. Have some boiled water." + +Mary turned away from the telephone that it might not register her low +laughter as she put the receiver in its place. The next instant she took +it down again with twinkling eyes and listened. Yes, the voices were +silent, it would be safe. She rang two rings. + +"Hello," said her husband's voice. + +"John," said Mary, almost in a whisper, "for English free and unadorned, +commend me to a little boy's grandmother!" + +Two laughs met over the wire, then two receivers clicked. + + * * * * * + +One day Mary came in from a walk and noticed at once, a vacant place on +the wall where the Farmers' 'phone had hung. She had heard rumors of a +merger of the two systems and had fervently hoped that they might merge +soon and forever. + +"Look! Mamma," said Gertrude, pointing to the wall. + + "Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! + One telephone is taken away!" + +she chortled in her joy. + +(The small boy of the household had been reading "Alice" and +consequently declaiming the Jabberwock from morning till night, till its +weird strains had become fixed in the various minds of the household and +notably in Gertrude's.) + +"It will simplify matters," said her mother, smiling, "but liberty is +not for us. _That_ tuneful peal will still ring on," and as she looked +at the Citizens' 'phone the peal came. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +One Monday evening the doctor and his wife sat chatting cosily before +the fire. In the midst of their conversation, Mary looked up suddenly. +"I had a queer little experience this morning, John, I want to tell you +about it." + +"Tell ahead," said John, propping his slippered feet up on the fender. + +"Well, I got my pen and paper ready to write a letter to Mrs. E. I +wanted to write it yesterday afternoon and tell her some little +household incidents just while they were taking place, as she is fond of +the doings and sayings of boys and they are more realistic if reported +in the present tense. But I couldn't get at it yesterday afternoon. When +I started to write it this morning it occurred to me to date the letter +Sunday afternoon and write it just as I would have done yesterday--so I +did. When I had got it half done or more I heard the door-bell and going +to open it I saw through the large glass--" + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +The doctor went to the 'phone. + +"Yes." + +"Yes." + +"Where do you live?" + +"I'll be right down." + +He went back, hastily removed his slippers and began putting on his +shoes. Mary saw that he had clean forgotten her story. Very well. It +wouldn't take more than a minute to finish it--there would be plenty of +time while he was getting into his shoes--but if he was not enough +interested to refer to it again she certainly would not. In a few +minutes the doctor was gone and Mary went to bed. An hour or two later +his voice broke in upon her slumber. "Back again," he said as he settled +down upon his pillow. In a minute he exclaimed, "Say, Mary, what was the +rest of that story?" + +"O, don't get me roused up. I'm _so_ sleepy," she said drowsily. + +"Well, I'd like to hear it." The interest in her little story which had +not been exhibited at the proper time was being exhibited now with a +vengeance. She sighed and said, "I can't think of it now--tell you in +the morning. Good night," and turned away. + +When morning came and they were both awake, the doctor again referred to +the unfinished story. + +"It's lost interest for me. It wasn't a story to start with, just a +little incident that seemed odd--" + +"Well, let's have it." + +"Well, then," said Mary, "I was writing away when the door-bell rang. I +went to open it and saw through the glass the laundry man--" + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Go on!" exclaimed her husband, hurriedly, "I'll wait till you finish." + +"I'll not _race_ through a story in any such John Gilpin style," said +Mary, tartly. "Go, John!" + +The doctor arose and went. + +"No." + +"I think not." + +"Has she any fever?" + +"All right, I'll be down in a little bit." + +Then he went back. "Now you can finish," he said. + +"Finis is written _here_," said Mary. "Don't say story to me again!" So +Mary's story remained unfinished. + +But a few days later, when she was in the buggy with her husband she +relented. "Now that the 'phone can't cut me short, John, I will finish +about the odd incident just because you wanted to know. But it will fall +pretty flat now, as all things do with too many preliminary flourishes." + +"Go on," said the doctor. + +"Well, you know I told you I dated my letter back to Sunday afternoon, +and was writing away when I heard the door-bell ring. As I started +toward the door I saw the laundry man standing there. I was conscious of +looking at him in astonishment and in a dazed sort of way as I walked +across the large room to open the door. I am sure he must have noticed +the expression on my face. When I opened the door he asked as he always +does, 'Any laundry?'" + +"'Any laundry _today_?' The words were on my tongue's end but I stopped +them in time. You see it was really Sunday to me, so deep into the +spirit of it had I got, and it was with a little shock that I came back +to Monday again in time to answer the man in a rational way. And now my +story's done." + +"Not a bad one, either," said John, "I'm glad you condescended to finish +it." + + * * * * * + +The doctor came home at ten o'clock and went straight to bed and to +sleep. At eleven he was called. + +"What is it?" he asked gruffly. + +"It's time for Silas to take his medicine and he won't do it." + +"Won't, eh?" + +"No, he vows he won't." + +"Well, let him alone for a while and then try again." + +About one came another ring. + +"We've both been asleep, Doctor, but I've been up fifteen minutes trying +to get him to take his medicine and he won't do it. He says it's too +damned nasty and that he don't need it anyhow." + +"Tell him I say he's a mighty good farmer, but a devilish poor doctor." + +"I don't know what to do. I can't make him take it." + +"You'll have to let him alone for awhile I guess, maybe he'll change his +mind after awhile." + +At three o'clock the doctor was again at the telephone. + +"Doctor, he just will _not_ take it," the voice was now quite +distressed. "I can't manage him at all." + +"You _ought_ to manage him. What's a wife for? Well, go to bed and don't +bother him or me any more tonight." + +But early next morning Silas' wife telephoned again. + +"I thought I ought to tell you that he hasn't taken it yet." + +"He'll get well anyway. Don't be a bit uneasy about _him_," said the +doctor, laughing, as he rung off. + + * * * * * + +"It's time to go, John." + +Mary was drawing on her gloves. She looked at her moveless husband as he +sat before the crackling blaze in the big fireplace. + +"This is better than church," he made reply. + +"But you promised you would go tonight. Come on." + +"It isn't time yet, is it?" + +"The last bell will ring before we get there." + +"Well, let's wait till all that singing's over. That just about breaks +my back." + +Mary sat down resignedly. If they missed the singing perhaps John would +not look at his watch and sigh so loud during the sermon. And it might +not be a bad idea to miss the singing for another reason. The last time +John had gone to church he had astonished her by sliding up beside her, +taking hold of the hymn-book and singing! It happened to be his old +favorite, "Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood." + +Of course it was lovely that he should want to sing it with her--but the +_way_ he sang it! He was in the wrong key and he came out two or three +syllables behind on most of the lines, but undismayed by the sudden +curtailment went boldly ahead on the next. And Mary had been much +relieved when the hymn was ended and the book was closed. So now she +waited very patiently for her husband to make some move toward starting. +By and by he got up and they went out. No sooner was the door closed +behind them than the "ting-a-ling-ling-ling" was heard. The doctor threw +open the door and went back. Mary, waiting at the threshold, heard one +side of the dialogue. + +"Yes." + +"Down where?" + +"Shake up your 'phone. I can't hear you." + +"That's better. Now what is it?" + +"Swallowed benzine, did she? How much?... That won't kill her. Give her +some warm water to drink. And give her a spoonful of mustard--anything +to produce vomiting...... She has? That's all right. Tell her to put her +finger down her throat and vomit some more..... No, I think it won't be +necessary for me to come down..... You would? Well, let me hear again in +the next hour or two, and if you still want me I'll come. Good-bye." + +They walked down the street and as they drew near the office they saw +the figure of the office boy in the doorway silhouetted against the +light within. He was looking anxiously in their direction. Suddenly he +disappeared and the faint sound of a bell came to their ears. They +quickened their pace and as they came up the boy came hurriedly to the +door again. + +"Is that you, Doctor?" he asked, peering out. + +"Yes." + +"I told a lady at the 'phone to wait a minute, she's 'phoned twice." +Mary waited at the door while her husband went into the office and over +to the 'phone. + +"Yes. What is it?.... No. No. _No!_.... Listen to me..... Be _still_ and +listen to _me_! She's in no more danger of dying than _you_ are. She +couldn't die if she tried..... Be still, I say, and listen to me!" He +stamped his foot mightily. Mary laughed softly to herself. "Now don't +hang over her and _sympathize_ with her; that's exactly what she don't +need. And don't let the neighbors hang around her either. Shut the whole +tea-party out..... Well, tell 'em _I_ said so..... I don't care a damn +_what_ they think. Your duty and mine is to do the very best we can for +that girl. Now remember..... Yes, I'll be down on the nine o'clock train +tomorrow morning. Good-bye." He joined his wife at the door. "If anybody +wants me, come to the church," he said, turning to the boy. + +Mary laid her hand within her husband's arm and they started on. They +met a man who stopped and asked the doctor how soon he would be at the +office, as he was on his way there to get some medicine. + +"I'd better go back," said the doctor and back they went. It seemed to +Mary that her husband might move with more celerity in fixing up the +medicine. He was deliberation itself as he cut and arranged the little +squares of paper. Still more deliberately he heaped the little mounds of +white powder upon them. She looked on anxiously. At last he was ready to +fold them up! No, he reached for another bottle. He took out the cork, +but his spatula was not in sight. Nowise disturbed, he shifted bottles +and little boxes about on the table. + +"Can't you use your knife, Doctor?" asked Mary. + +"O, I'll find it--it's around here somewhere." In a minute or two the +missing spatula was discovered under a paper, and then the doctor +slowly, _so_ slowly, dished out little additions to the little mounds. +Then he laid the spatula up, put the cork carefully back in the bottle, +turned in his chair and put two questions to the waiting man, turned +back and folded the mounds in the squares with the most painstaking +care. In spite of herself Mary fidgeted and when the powders with +instructions were delivered and the man had gone, she rose hastily. +"_Do_ come now before somebody else wants something." + +The singing was over and the sermon just beginning when they reached the +church. It progressed satisfactorily to the end. The doctor usually made +an important unit in producing that "brisk and lively air which a sermon +inspires when it is quite finished." But tonight, a few minutes before +the finale came, Mary saw the usher advancing down the aisle. He stopped +at their seat and bending down whispered something to the doctor, who +turned and whispered something to his wife. + +"No, I'll stay and walk home with the Rands. I see they're here," she +whispered back. + +The doctor rose and went out. "Who's at the office?" he asked, as he +walked away with the boy. + +"She's not there yet, she telephoned. I told her you was at church." + +"Did she say she couldn't wait?" + +"She said she had been at church too, but a bug flew in her ear and she +had to leave, and she guessed you'd have to leave too, because she +couldn't stand it. She said it felt _awful_." + +"Where is she?" + +"She was at a house by the Methodist church, she said, when she 'phoned +to see if you was at the office. When I told her I'd get you from the +other church, she said she'd be at the office by the time you got +there." + +And she was, sitting uneasily in a big chair. + +"Doctor, I've had a flea in my ear sometimes, but this is a different +proposition. Ugh! Please get this creature out _now_. It feels as big as +a bat. Ugh! It's crawling further in, hurry!" + +"Maybe we'd better wait a minute and see if it won't be like some other +things, in at one ear and out at the other." + +"O, hurry, it'll get so far in you can't reach it." + +"Turn more to the light," commanded the doctor, and in a few seconds he +held up the offending insect. + +"O, you only got a little of it!" + +"I got it all." + +"Well, it certainly felt a million times bigger than that," and she +departed radiantly happy. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +One day in early spring the doctor surprised his wife by asking her if +she would like to take a drive. + +"In March? The roads are not passable yet, surely." + +But the doctor assured her that the roads were getting pretty good +except in spots. "I have such a long journey ahead of me today that I +want you to ride out as far as Centerville and I can pick you up as I +come back." + +"That's seven or eight miles. I'll go. I can stop at Dr. Parkin's and +chat with Mrs. Parkin till you come." + +Accordingly a few minutes later the doctor and Mary were speeding along +through the town which they soon left far behind them. + +About two miles out they saw a buggy down the road ahead of them which +seemed to be at a stand-still. When they drew near they found a woman at +the horses' heads with a broken strap in her hand. She was gazing +helplessly at the buggy which stood hub-deep in mud. She recognized the +doctor and called out, "Dr. Blank, if ever I needed a doctor in my life, +it's now." + +"Stuck fast, eh?" + +The doctor handed the reins to his wife and got out. + +"I see--a broken single-tree. Well, I always unload when I get stuck, so +the first thing we do we'll take this big lummox out of here," he said +picking his way to the buggy. The lummox rose to her feet with a broad +grin and permitted herself to be taken out. She was a fat girl about +fourteen years old. + +"My! I'll bet she weighs three hundred pounds," observed the doctor when +she was landed, which was immediately resented. Then he took the +hitching-rein and tied the tug to the broken end of the single-tree; +after which he went to the horses' heads and commanded them to "Come +on." They started and the next instant the vehicle was on terra firma. +Mother and daughter gave the doctor warm thanks and each buggy went its +separate way. + +Mary was looking about her. "The elms have a faint suspicion that spring +is coming; the willows only are quite sure of it," she said, noting +their tender greenth which formed a soft blur of color, the only color +in all the gray landscape. No, there is a swift dash of blue, for a jay +has settled down on the top of a rail just at our travelers' right. + +Soon they were crossing a long and high bridge spanning a creek which +only a week before had been a raging torrent; the drift, caught and held +by the trunks of the trees, and the weeds and grasses all bending in one +direction, told the story. But the waters had subsided and now lay in +deep, placid pools. + +"Stop, John, quick!" commanded Mary when they were about half way +across. The doctor obeyed wondering what could be the matter. He looked +at his wife, who was gazing down into the pool beneath. + +"I suppose I'm to stop while you count all the fish you can see." + +"I was looking at that lovely concave sky down there. See those two +white clouds floating so serenely across the blue far, far below the +tip-tops of the elm trees." + +The doctor drove relentlessly on. + +"Another mudhole," said Mary after a while, "but this time the travelers +tremble on the brink and fear to launch away." + +When they came up they found a little girl standing by the side of the +horse holding up over its back a piece of the harness. She held it in a +very aimless and helpless way. "See," said Mary, "she doesn't know what +to do a bit more than I should. I wonder if she can be alone." + +The doctor got out and went forward to help her and discovered a young +man sitting cozily in the carriage. He glanced at him contemptuously. + +"Your harness is broken, have you got a string?" he asked abruptly. + +"N-n-o, I haven't," said the youth feeling about his pockets. + +"Take your shoe-string. If you haven't got one I'll give you mine," and +he set his foot energetically on the hub of the wheel to unlace his +shoe. + +"Why, I've got one here, I guess," and the young man lifted a reluctant +foot. The doctor saw and understood. The little sister was to fix the +harness in order to save her brother's brand new shoes from the mud. + +"You'd better fix that harness yourself, my friend, and fix it strong," +was the doctor's parting injunction as he climbed into the buggy and +started on. + +"I don't like the looks of this slough of despond," said Mary. The next +minute the horses were floundering through it, tugging with might and +main. Now the wheels have sunk to the hubs and the horses are straining +every muscle. + +"Merciful heaven!" gasped Mary. At last they were safely through, and +the doctor looking back said, "That is the last great blot on our +civilization--bad roads." + +After a while there came from across the prairie the ascending, +interrogative _boo-oo-m_ of a prairie chicken not far distant, while +from far away came the faint notes of another. And now a different note, +soft, melodious and mournful is heard. + +"How far away do you think that dove is?" asked the doctor. + +"It sounds as if it might be half a mile." + +"It is right up here in this tree in the field." + +"Is it," said Mary, looking up. "Yes, I see, it's as pretty and soft as +its voice. But I'm getting sunburned, John. How hot a March day can +get!" + +"Only two more miles and good road all the way." + +A few minutes more and Mary was set down at Centerville, "I'll be back +about sunset," announced her husband as he drove off. + +A very pleasant-faced woman answered the knock at the door. She had a +shingle in her hand and several long strips of muslin over her arm. She +smilingly explained that she didn't often meet people at the door with a +shingle but that she was standing near the door when the knock came. + +Mary, standing by the bed and removing hat and gloves, looked about her. + +"What are you doing with that shingle and all this cotton and stuff, +Mrs. Parkin?" she asked. + +"Haven't you ever made a splint?" + +"A splint? No indeed, I'm not equal to that." + +"That's what I'm doing now. There's a boy with a broken arm in the +office in the next room." + +"Oh, your husband has his office here at the house." + +"Yes, and it's a nuisance sometimes, too, but one gets used to it." + +"I'll watch you and learn something new about the work of a doctor's +wife." + +"You'll learn then to have a lot of pillow slips and sheets on hand. Old +or new, Dr. Parkin just tears them up when he gets in a hurry--it +doesn't matter to him what goes." + +The doctor's wife put cotton over the whole length of the shingle and +wound the strips of muslin around it; then taking a needle and thread +she stitched it securely. Mary sat in her chair watching the process +with much interest. "You have made it thicker in some places than in +others," she said. + +"Yes; that is to fit the inequalities of the arm." Mary looked at her +admiringly. "You are something of an artist," she observed. + +Just as Mrs. Parkin finished it her husband appeared in the doorway. + +"Is it done?" he asked. + +"It's just finished." + +"May I see you put it on, Doctor?" asked Mary, rising and coming +forward. + +"Why, good afternoon, Mrs. Blank. I'm glad to see you out here. Yes, +come right in. How's the doctor?" + +"Oh, he is well and happy--I think he expects to cut off a foot this +afternoon." + +A boy with a frightened look on his face stood in the doctor's office +with one sleeve rolled up. The doctor adjusted the fracture, then +applied the splint while his wife held it steady until he had made it +secure. When the splint was in place and the boy had gone a messenger +came to tell the doctor he was wanted six miles away. + +About half an hour afterward a little black-eyed woman came in and said +she wanted some more medicine like the last she took. + +"The doctor's gone," said Mrs. Parkin, "and will not be back for several +hours." + +"Well, you can get it for me, can't you?" + +"Do you know the name of it?" + +"No, but I believe I could tell it if I saw it," said the patient, going +to the doctor's shelves and looking closely at the bottles and phials +with their contents of many colors. She took up a three-ounce bottle. +"This is like the other bottle and I believe the medicine is just the +same color. Yes, I'm sure it is," she said, holding it up to the light. +Mary looked at her and then at Mrs. Parkin. + +"I wouldn't like to risk it," said the latter lady. + +"Oh, I'm not afraid. I don't want to wait until the doctor comes and I +know this must be like the other. It's exactly the same color." + +"My good woman," said Mary, "you _certainly_ will not risk that. It +might kill you." + +"No, Mrs. Dawson, you must either wait till the doctor comes or come +again," said Mrs. Parkin. The patient grumbled a little about having to +make an extra trip and took her leave. + +When the door had closed behind her Mary asked the other doctor's wife +if she often had patients like that. + +"Oh, yes. People come here when the doctor is away and either want me to +prescribe for them or to prescribe for themselves." + +"You don't do it, do you?" + +"Sometimes I do, when I am perfectly sure what I am doing. Having the +office here in the house so many years I couldn't help learning a few +things." + +"I wouldn't prescribe for anything or anybody. I'd be afraid of killing +somebody." About an hour later Mary, looking out of the window, saw a +wagon stopping at the gate. It contained a man and a woman and two +well-grown girls. + +"Hello!" called the man. + +"People call you out instead of coming in. That is less trouble," +observed Mary. The doctor's wife went to the door. + +"Is Doc at home?" + +"No, he has gone to the country." + +"How soon will he be back?" + +"Not before supper time, probably." + +The man whistled, then looked at his wife and the two girls. + +"Well, Sally," he said, "I guess we'd better git out and wait fur 'im." + +"W'y, Pa, it'll be dark long before we git home, if we do." + +"I can't help that. I'm not agoin' to drive eight miles tomorry or next +day nuther." + +"If ye'd 'a started two hour ago like I wanted ye to do, maybe Doc'd 'a +been here and we c'd 'a been purty nigh home by this time." + +"Shet up! I told ye I wasn't done tradin' then." + +"It don't take _me_ all day to trade a few aigs for a jug o' m'lasses +an' a plug o' terbacker." + +For answer the head of the house told his family to "jist roll out now." +They rolled out and in a few minutes they had all rolled in. Mrs. Parkin +made a heroic effort not to look inhospitable which made Mary's heroic +effort not to look amused still more heroic. + +When at last the afternoon was drawing to a close Mary went out into the +yard to rest. She wished John would come. Hark! There is the ring of +horses' hoofs down the quiet road. But these are white horses, John's +are bays. She turns her head and looks into the west. Out in the meadow +a giant oak-tree stands between her and the setting sun. Its upper +branches are outlined against the grey cloud which belts the entire +western horizon, while its lower branches are sharply etched against the +yellow sky beneath the grey. + +What a calm, beautiful sky it was! + +She thought of some lines she had read more than once that morning ... a +bit from George Eliot's Journal: + +"How lovely to look into that brilliant distance and see the ship on the +horizon seeming to sail away from the cold and dim world behind it right +into the golden glory! I have always that sort of feeling when I look at +sunset. It always seems to me that there in the west lies a land of +light and warmth and love." + +A carriage was now coming down the road at great speed. Mary saw it was +her husband and went in to put on her things. In a few minutes more she +was in the buggy and they were bound for home. It was almost ten o'clock +when they got there. The trip had been so hard on the horses that all +the spirit was taken out of them. The doctor, too, was exceedingly +tired. "Forty-two miles is a long trip to make in an afternoon," he +said. + +"I hope Jack and Maggie are not up so late." + +"It would be just like them to sit up till we came." + +The buggy stopped; the door flew open and Jack and Maggie stood framed +in the doorway with the leaping yellow firelight for a background. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Once in a while sympathy for a fellow mortal kept the doctor's wife an +interested listener at the 'phone. Going, one morning, to speak to a +friend about some little matter she heard her husband say: + +"What is it, doctor?" A physician in a little town some ten or twelve +miles distant, who had called Dr. Blank in consultation a few days +before, was calling him. + +"I think our patient is doing very well, but her heart keeps getting a +little faster." + +"How fast is it now?" + +"About 120." + +"But the disease is pretty well advanced now--that doesn't mean as much +as it would earlier. But you might push a little on the brandy, or the +strychnine--how much brandy have you given her since I saw her?" + +"I have given her four ounces." + +"Four ounces!" + +"Yes." + +"Four ounces in three days? I think you must mean four drachms." + +"_Yes._ It _is_ drachms. Four ounces _would_ be fixing things up. I've +been giving her digitalis; what do you think about that?" + +"That's all right, but I think that strychnine would be a little +better." + +"Would you give her any aromatic spirits of ammonia?" + +"Does she rattle?" + +"A little." + +"Then you might give her a little of that. And keep the room open and +stick right to her and she ought to get along. Don't give her much to +eat." + +"Is milk all right?" + +"Yes. You bet it is." + +"All right then, doctor, I believe that's all. Good-bye." + +On another occasion, Mary caught this fragment: + +"She's so everlastin' sore that she just hollers and yells every time I +go near her. Would you give her any more morphine?" + +"Morphine's a thing you can't monkey with you know, Doctor. You want to +be mighty careful about that." + +"Yes. I know. How long will that morphine last?" + +"That depends on how you use it. It won't last long if you use too much +and neither will she." + +"I mean how long will it last in the system?" + +"O! Why, three or four hours." + +"Well, I think she don't need no more medicine." + +Mary smiled at the double negative and when she laughingly spoke of it +that night her husband assured her that that doctor's singleness of +purpose more than offset his doubleness of negative. That he was a fine +fellow and a good physician just the same. + + * * * * * + +One morning in March just as the doctor arose from the breakfast table +he was called to the 'phone. + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"Doctor, will it hurt the baby to bathe it every morning? I've been +doing that but some of the folks around here say I oughtn't to do it; +they say it isn't good for a baby to bathe it so often." + +The doctor answered solemnly, "The baby's fat and healthy isn't it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And pretty?" + +"Yes, _sir_." + +"Likes to see its mamma?" + +"You _know_ it." + +"Likes to see its papa?" + +"He does that!" said the young mother. + +"Then ask me next fall if it will hurt to bathe the baby every morning." + +"All right, Doctor," laughed the baby's mamma. + +"The fools are not all dead yet," said John, as he took his hat and +departed. On the step he turned back and put his head in at the door. +"Keep an ear out, Mary. I'm likely to be away from the office a good bit +this morning." + +An hour later a call came. Mary put the ear that was "out" to the +receiver: + +"It's on North Adams street." + +"All right. I'll be out there after awhile," said her husband's placid +voice. + +"Don't wait too long. He may die before you git here." + +"No, he won't. I'll be along pretty soon." + +"Well, come just as quick as you can." + +"All right," and the listener knew that it might be along toward noon +before he got there. + +About eleven o'clock the 'phone rang sharply. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's house?" + +"Yes." + +"Is he there?" + +"I saw him pass here about twenty minutes ago. I'm sure he'll be back to +the office in a little bit." + +"My land! I've been here three or four times. Looks like I'd ketch him +_some_ time." + +"You are at the office then? If you will sit down and wait just a little +while, he will be in." + +"I come six miles to see him. I supposed of course he'd be in _some_ +time," grumbled the voice (of course a woman's). + +"But when he is called to visit a patient he must go, you know," +explained Mary. + +"Y-e-s," admitted the voice reluctantly. "Well, I'll wait here a little +while longer." + +Ten minutes later Mary rang the office. Her husband replied. + +"How long have you been back, John?" + +"O, five or ten minutes." + +"Did you find a woman waiting for you?" + +"No." + +"Well, I assured her you'd be there in a few minutes and she said she'd +wait." + +"Do you know who she was?" + +"No. Some one from the country. She said she came six miles to see you +and she supposed you'd be in your office _some_ time, and that sometime +was mightily emphatic." + +"O, yes, I know now. She'll be in again," laughed the doctor and Mary +felt relieved, for in the querulous tones of the disappointed woman she +had read disapproval of the doctor and of herself too, as the partner +not only of his joys and sorrows, but of his laggard gait as well. The +people who wait for a doctor are not apt to consider that a good many +more may be waiting for him also at that particular moment of time. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +One of the most discouraging things I have encountered is a great blank +silence. The doctor asks his wife to keep a close watch on the telephone +for a little while, and leaves the office. Pretty soon it rings and she +goes to answer it. + +"Hello?" Silence. "What is it?" More silence. She knows that "unseen +hands or spirits" did not ring that bell. She knows perfectly well that +there is a listening ear at the other end of the line. But you cannot +converse with silence any more than you can speak to a man you meet on +the street if he purposely looks the other way. + +Mary knew that the listening ear belonged to someone who recognized that +it was the wife who answered instead of the doctor, and therefore kept +silent. She smiled and hung up the receiver--sorry not to be able to +help her husband and to give the needed information to the patient. + +But when this had happened several times she thought of a more +satisfactory way of dealing with the situation. She would take down the +receiver and ask, "What is it?" She would wait a perceptible instant and +then say distinctly and pleasantly, "Doctor Blank will be out of the +office for about twenty minutes. He asked me to tell you." That never +failed to bring an answer, a hasty, shame-voiced, "Oh, I--well--thank +you, Mrs. Blank, I'll call again, then." + + * * * * * + +The doctor's absence from town has its telephonic puzzles. One day +during Dr. Blank's absence his wife was called to the 'phone. + +"Mrs. Blank, a telegram has just come for the doctor. What must I do +with it?" It was the man at the office who put the question. + +"Do you know what it is, or where it's from?" + +"I asked the operator and he says it's from Mr. Slocum, who is in +Cincinnati. He telegraphed the doctor to go and see his wife who is +sick." + +"Well, take it over to Dr. Brown's office and ask him to go and see +her." + +About half an hour later the thought of the telegram came into her mind. +"I wonder if he found Dr. Brown in. I'd better find out." + +She rang the office. "Did you find Dr. Brown in?" + +"Yes, he was there." + +"And you gave the message to him?" + +"Yes, he took it." + +"I hope he went right down?" + +"No, he said he wouldn't go." + +"Wouldn't go!" exclaimed Mary, much astonished. + +"He said he knew Slocum and he was in all probability drunk when he sent +the message." + +"Why, what a queer conclusion to arrive at. The doctor may be right but +I think we ought to know." + +"I called up their house after I came back from Dr. Brown's office, but +nobody answered. So she can't be very sick or she'd be at home." + +Mary put up the receiver hesitatingly. She was not satisfied about this +matter. She went about her work, but her thoughts were on the message +and the sick wife. Suddenly she thought of something--the Slocum +children were in school. The mother had not been able to get to the +'phone to answer it. The thought of her lying there alone and helpless +was too much. Mary went swiftly to the telephone and called the office. + +"Johnson, you have to pass Mrs. Slocum's on your way to dinner. I think +she may have been too ill to go to the 'phone. Please stop and find out +something definite." + +"All right." + +"And let me know as soon as you can. If she isn't sick don't tell her +anything about the telegram. Think up some excuse as you go along for +coming in, in case all is well." + +In about twenty minutes the expected summons came. + +"Well, I stopped, Mrs. Blank." + +"What did you find?" + +"Well, I found a hatchet close to Slocum's gate." + +"How lucky!" + +"I took it in to ask if it was theirs." + +"Was it?" + +"No, it wasn't." + +"Who told you so?" + +"Mrs. Slocum, herself, and she's about the healthiest looking invalid +I've seen lately." + +"I'm much relieved. Thank you, Johnson." And as she left the 'phone she +meditated within herself, "Verily, the tender thoughtfulness of the +husband drunk exceedeth that of the husband sober." + +When night came and Mary was preparing for bed she thought, "It will be +very unpleasant to be called up only to tell people the doctor is not +here." She rose, went to the 'phone and called central. + +"This is Mrs. Blank, central. If anyone should want the doctor tonight, +or for the next two nights, please say he is out of town and will not be +home until Saturday." + +Then with a delicious sense of freedom she went to bed and slept as +sweetly as in the long-ago when the telephone was a thing undreamed of. + + * * * * * + +The ting-a-ling-ling-ling--came as Mary was pouring boiling water into +the teapot, just before six on a cool July evening. The maid was +temporarily absent and Mary had been getting supper in a very leisurely +way when she saw her husband step up on the porch. Then her leisure was +exchanged for hurry. The doctor's appearance before meal time was the +signal to which she responded automatically--he had to catch a +train--someone must have him right away, or what not? She must not keep +him waiting a minute. She pushed the teapot back on the stove and went +swiftly to the 'phone. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's office?" asked a disturbed feminine voice. + +"No, his residence. He is here. Wait a minute, please, and I will call +him." + +She hurried out to the porch, "Isn't papa here?" she asked of her small +boy sitting there. + +"He _was_." + +"Well, where is he now?" + +"I don't know where he is." + +Provoking! She hurried back. He must be in the garden. An occasional +impulse to hoe sometimes came over him (especially if the day happened +to be Sunday). + +In the kitchen her daughter stood at a table cutting the bread for +supper. "Go quick, and see if papa's in the garden. Tell him to come to +the 'phone at once." + +Then she hurried back to re-assure the waiting one. But what could she +tell her? Perhaps the doctor was not in the garden. She rushed out and +beat her daughter in the race toward it. She sent her voice ahead, +"John!" she called. + +"Yes." + +"Come to the 'phone this minute." Back she ran. Would she still be +waiting? + +"Hello." + +"Hello." + +"Yes, the doctor's here. He's in the garden but will be in in just a +minute. Hold the 'phone please." + +"Very well, thank you." + +It was a minute and a half before the doctor got there. + +"Hello." No answer. + +"Hello!" Silence. + +"_Hello!_" Still no reply. The doctor rang sharply for central. + +"Who was calling me a minute ago." + +"I don't know--we can't keep track of everybody who calls." + +The doctor hung up the receiver with an explosive monosyllable. Mary's +patience was giving out too. "She couldn't wait one half minute. I told +her you would be here in a minute and it took you a minute and a half." + +"She may be waiting at the office, I'll go down there." + +"I wouldn't do it," said Mary, warmly. "It's much easier for her to stay +a half minute at the 'phone than for you to tramp back to the office." + +But he went. As his wife went back to the kitchen her daughter called, +"Mother, did you take the loaf of bread in there with you?" + +"Why, no." + +"Well, it's not on the table where I was cutting it when you sent me +after father." + +"It's on the floor!" shouted the small boy, peering through the window. +"_I_ won't eat any of it!" + +"Don't, exquisite child," said his sister, stooping over to recover the +loaf, dropped in her haste. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Mary went. + +"Isn't the doctor coming?" + +"He came. He called repeatedly, but got no reply." + +"I was right here with my ear to the 'phone the whole time." + +"He concluded it might be someone waiting for him at the office, so he +has gone down there." + +"I'm not there. I'm here at home." + +"Hello," broke in the doctor's voice. + +"O, here you are!" + +"Doctor, I've been taking calomel today and then I took some salts and I +thoughtlessly dissolved them in some lemonade I had handy!" + +A solemn voice asked, "Have you made your will?" + +A little giggle before the patient said "No." + +"You'll have plenty of time. You needn't hurry about it." + +"You don't think it will hurt me then?" + +"No. Not a bit." + +"I was afraid the acid might salivate me." + +"Yes, that's an old and popular idea. But it won't." + +"That sounds good, Doctor. I was awfully scared. Much obliged. +Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +A week or two after the above incident the doctor was seated at his +dinner, a leisurely Sunday dinner. The telephone called and he rose and +went to it. The usual hush fell upon the table in order that he might +hear. + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, Doctor, this is Mrs. Abner. Would it be too much trouble for you +to step into Hall's and ask them to send me up a quart of ice-cream for +dinner?" + +"Certainly not. A quart?" + +"Yes, please. I'm sorry to bother you with it. They ought to have a +'phone." + +"No trouble." + +The doctor hung up the receiver and reached for his hat. + +"Why, John, you surely can finish your dinner before you go!" exclaimed +Mary. + +"Then I'd spoil Mrs. Abner's dinner." + +"Mrs. Abner!" + +"Yes, she wants a quart of ice-cream for dinner." + +"I'd like to know what _you've_ got to do with it," said Mary tartly. + +"She thinks I'm at the office." + +"And the office is next door to Hall's and Hall's have no 'phone," said +Mary smiling. "Of course you must go. Wouldn't Mrs. Abner feel mortified +though if she knew you had to leave your home in the midst of dinner to +order her ice-cream. But do hurry back, John." + +"Maybe I'd better stay there till the dinner hour is well over," laughed +John. "Every now and then someone wants me to step into Hall's and order +up something." + +He went good-naturedly away and his wife looked after him marveling, but +withal admiring. + + * * * * * + +The doctor and his wife had been slumbering peacefully for an hour or +two. Then came a loud ring and they were wide awake at once. + +"That wasn't the telephone, John, it was the door-bell." + +The doctor got into his dressing-gown and went to the door. + +His wife heard a man's voice, then her husband reply, then the door +shut. She lay back on her pillow but it was evident John was not coming +back. She must have dozed, for it seemed to her a long time had gone by +when she started to hear a noise in the other room. John had not yet got +off. + +"You have to go some place, do you?" she called. + +"Yes,--just a little way. Look out for the 'phone, Mary. I think I'll +have to go down to Hanson's tonight, to meet the stork." + +"But how can I get word to you? They have no 'phone or that man wouldn't +have come after you." + +"Well, I have promised Hanson and I'll have to go there. If he 'phones +before I get back tell him he'll have to come down to Stetson's after +me. Or, you might wake one of the boys and send him over." + +"I'd rather try to wake Rip Van Winkle," said Mary, in a tone that +settled it. + +In about an hour the doctor was back and snuggling down under the +covers. + +"They've got a fine boy over to Stetson's," he announced to his sleepy +wife. + +"They have!" she exclaimed, almost getting awake. Again they slept. + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"That's Hanson," exclaimed the doctor springing up and groping his way +to the 'phone. + +"Yes." + +"Out where?" + +"Smith's on Parks avenue?.... _Not_ Smith's?.... I understand--a little +house farther down that street..... Yes, I'll come..... O, as soon as I +can dress and get there." + +Mary heard, but when he had gone, was soon in a deep sleep. + +By and by she found herself flinging off the covers and hurrying +guiltily toward the summoning tyrant, her subconscious self telling her +that this was the third peal. + +"Hello." + +"Is the doctor there, Mrs. Blank?" + +"No, he is over at Stetson's. He said if you 'phoned to tell you you +would have to come there as they have no 'phone." + +"Wait a minute, Mrs. Blank," said the voice of central, "some one is +trying to speak--" + +"What have I said!" thought Mary suddenly, thoroughly awake. "He got +back from Stetson's and went to another place. But I don't know what +place nor where it is." + +The kindly voice of central went on: + +"It's the doctor who is talking, Mrs. Blank. I understand now. He says +if that message comes you are to 'phone him at James Smith's on Parks +avenue." + +Mary looked at the clock. "So he's been there all this time. That stork +is a little too busy tonight," she thought as she went shivering back to +bed. + +Toward daylight she was roused by the return of her husband, who +announced a new daughter in the world and then they went to sleep. The +next morning she said, "John, I've just thought of something. Why didn't +you have central 'phone you at Smith's if Hanson called and save me all +that bother?" + +"I guess it's because I'm so used to bothering you Mary, that I didn't +think of it." + + * * * * * + +Mary was upstairs cleaning house most vigorously when the ring came. She +stopped and listened. It came again--three. She set the dust pan down +and went. + +"I'll have to be out for an hour or more, Mary," said the doctor. + +"I heard that sigh," he laughed, "but it won't be very hard to sort of +keep an ear on the 'phone, will it? Johnson may get in soon and then it +won't be necessary." + +"Very well, then, John," and she went upstairs, leaving the doors open +behind her. + +She had just reached the top when she had to turn about and retrace her +steps. + +"Hello." No answer. + +"Is someone calling Dr. Blank's house or office?" + +"I rang your 'phone by mistake," said central. Mary trudged up the +stairs again. "This is more tiresome than cleaning house," she said to +herself as she went along. + +In twenty minutes the summons came. She leaned her broom against the +wall and went down. + +"O, this is Mrs. Blank. I'm very sorry to have put you to this +trouble--I wanted the doctor." + +She recognized the voice of her old pastor for whom she had a most +kindly regard. + +"He is out, but will be back within half an hour now, Mr. Rutledge." + +"Thank you, I'll call again, but I wonder that you knew my voice." Mary +laughed. + +"I haven't heard it for awhile, but maybe I'll be at church next Sunday, +if minding the telephone doesn't make me feel too wicked." + +"It's the wicked that church is for--come by all means." + +"I didn't mean to detain you, Mr. Rutledge. It is restful, though, after +dragging one's weary feet down to the 'phone to hear something beside +all the ills that flesh is heir to. Come to see us soon--one day next +week." + +Once more she wended her way upstairs and in about fifteen minutes came +the ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling. "I surrender!" she declared. + +When she had gone down and put the receiver to her ear her husband's +voice spoke kindly, + +"I'm back, Mary, you're released." + +"Thank you, John, you are very thoughtful," and she smiled as she took +off her sun-bonnet and sat herself down. "Not another time will I climb +those stairs this morning." + + * * * * * + +Mary sat one evening dreamily thinking about them--these messages that +came every day, every day! + +Doctor, will it hurt Jennie to eat some tomatoes this morning--she +craves them so? + +Will is a great deal better. Can he have some ice-cream for dinner? + +I can hardly manage Henry any longer, Doctor, he's determined he _will_ +have more to eat. Can I begin giving him a little more today? + +Lemonade won't hurt Helen, will it? She wants some. + +Doctor, I forget how many drops of that clear medicine I am to give..... +Ten, you say? Thank you. + +Dr. Blank, is it after meals or before that the dark medicine is to be +given..... I thought so, but I wanted to be sure. + +We are out of those powders you left. Do you think we will need any +more?.... Then I'll send down for them. + +How long will you be in the office this morning, Doctor?...... Very +well, I'll be down in about an hour. I want you to see my throat. + +You wanted me to let you know how Johnny is this morning. I don't think +he has any fever now and he slept all night, so I guess you won't need +to come down today. + +Dr. Blank, I've got something coming on my finger. Do you suppose it's a +felon?.... You can tell better when you see it?.... Well, I suppose you +can. I'll be down at the office pretty soon and then I want you to tell +me it's _not_ a felon. + +Mary seems a good deal better this morning, but she still has that pain +in her side. + +Doctor, I don't believe Joe is as well as he was last night. I think you +had better come down. + +As these old, old stories came leisurely into Mary's thoughts the +telephone rang three times. She rose from her chair before the fire and +went to answer it. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's office?" + +"No, his residence." + +"Is the doctor there?" + +"No, but he will be down on the seven o'clock train." + +"And it's now not quite six. This is Mr. Andrews." + +Mary knew the name and the man. + +"My wife is sick and I want to get a pint of alcohol for her." + +"An old subterfuge," thought Mary, "I'm afraid he wants it for himself." +She knew that he was often under its influence. + +"I can't get it without a prescription from a physician, you know. She +needs it right away." + +"The thirst is on him," thought our listener, pityingly. + +The voice went on, "Mrs. Blank, couldn't you just speak to the druggist +about it so I could get it right away?" + +"Mr. Andrews," she said hastily, "the druggist would pay no attention to +me. I'm not a physician, you know. The doctor will be here in an +hour--see him," and she hurried the receiver into its place, anxious to +get away from it. This was a story that was entirely new to her. Never +before had she been asked to procure a prescription for alcohol or any +of its attendant spirits. She liked the old stories best. + + * * * * * + +The doctor had been to the city and had got home at four o'clock in the +morning. He had had to change cars in the night and consequently had had +little sleep. When the door-bell rang his wife awakened instantly at the +expected summons and rose to admit him. In a little while both were fast +asleep. The wife, about a half hour later, found herself struggling to +speak to somebody about something, she did not know what. But when the +second long peal came from the 'phone she was fully awakened. How she +hated to rouse the slumberer at her side. + +"John," she called softly. He did not move. + +"John!" a little louder. He stirred slightly, but slept on. + +"John, _John_!" + +"Huh-h?" + +"The telephone." + +He threw back the covers, and rising, stumbled to the 'phone. + +"Hello." + +The voice of a little boy came to his half-awakened ear. + +"_Say_, Pa, _I_ can't sell these papers an' git through in time fer +school." + +"Yes, you _can_!" roared a voice. "You jist want to fool around." The +doctor went back to bed. + +"Wasn't the message for you?" inquired his wife. "What a shame to rouse +you from your sleep for nothing." + +The doctor told her what the message was and was back in slumberland in +an incredibly short space of time. Not so his wife. She was too +thoroughly awake at last and dawn was beginning to peep around the edges +of the window shades. She would not court slumber now but would lie +awake with her own thoughts which were very pleasant thoughts this +morning. By and by she rose softly, dressed and went out onto the +veranda and looked long into the reddening eastern sky. Ever since she +could remember she had felt this keen delight at the aspect of the sky +in the very early morning. She stood for awhile, drinking in the beauty +and the peacefulness of it all. Then she went in to her awakening +household, glad that the little boy had 'phoned his "Pa" and by some +means had got her too. + + * * * * * + +One midsummer night a tiny ringing came faintly and pleasantly into +Mary's dreams. Not till it came the second or third time did she awaken +to what it was. Then she sat up in bed calling her husband, who had just +awakened too and sprung out of bed. Dazed, he stumbled about and could +not find his way. With Mary's help he got his bearings and the next +minute his thunderous "Hello" greeted her ears. + +"Yes." + +"Worse tonight? In what way?" + +An instant's silence. "Mrs. Brownson?" Silence. "Mrs. Brownson!" +Silence. + +"Damn that woman! She's rung off." + +"Well, don't swear into the 'phone, John. It's against the rules. +Besides, she might hear you." + +The doctor was growling his way to his clothes. + +"I suppose I've got to go down there," was all the answer he made. When +he was dressed and the screen had banged behind him after the manner of +screens, Mary settled herself to sleep which came very soon. But she was +soon routed out of it. She went to the 'phone, expecting to hear a +querulous woman's voice asking, "Has the doctor started yet?" and her +lips were framing the old and satisfactory reply, "Yes, he must be +nearly there now," when a man's voice asked, "Is this Dr. Blank's +residence?" + +"Yes." + +"Is the doctor there?" + +"No, but he will be back in about twenty minutes." + +"Will you please tell him to come to J. H. Twitchell's?" + +"Yes, I'll send him right down." + +"Thank you." + +She went back to her bed room then, turning, retraced her steps. The +doctor could come home by way of Twitchell's as their home was not a +great distance from the Brownson's. + +She rang the Brownson's and after a little while a voice answered. + +"Is this Mrs. Brownson?" + +"Yes." + +"May I speak to Dr. Blank. I think he must be there now." + +"He's been here. He's gone home." + +Mary knew by the voice that its owner had not enjoyed getting out of +bed. "I wonder how she would like to be in my place," she thought, +smiling. She dared not trust herself to her pillow. She might fall +asleep and not waken when her husband came in. She wondered what time it +was. Up there on the wall the clock was ticking serenely away--she had +only to turn the button beside her to find out. But she did not turn it. +In the sweet security of the dark she felt safe. In one brief flash of +light some prowling burglar might discover her. + +She sat down by the open window and looked up into the starlit sky. They +were out tonight in countless numbers. Over there toward the northwest, +lying along the tops of the trees was the Great Dipper. Wasn't it? +Surely that particular curve in the handle was not to be found in any +other constellation. She tried to see the Dipper itself but a cherry +tree near her window blotted it out. Bend and peer as she might the +branches intervened. It was tantalizing. She rose irresolute. Should she +step out doors where the cherry tree would not be in the way? Not for a +thousand dippers! She walked to another window. That view shut even the +handle out. She looked for the Pleiades. They were not in the section of +sky visible from the window where she stood. She turned and listened. +Did she hear footsteps down the walk? She ought to be hearing her +husband's by this time. He could not be walking at his usual gait. There +he came! She went to the door looked through the screen and halted him +as he drew near the steps. + +"John, you'll have to take another trip. Mr. Twitchell has 'phoned for +you." + +He turned and was soon out of sight. "Now! I can go to bed with a clear +conscience," and Mary sought her pillow. But she had better stay awake +until he had time to get there lest Mr. Twitchell should 'phone again. +In five or ten minutes the danger would be over. She waited. At last she +closed her eyes to sleep. But what would be the use? In twenty minutes +more her husband would come in and rouse her out of it. She had better +just keep awake till he got back. And the next thing Mary heard was a +snore. She opened her eyes to find it was broad daylight and her husband +was sleeping soundly beside her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +One afternoon in June Mary went into her husband's office. + +"Has _The Record_ come?" she asked. + +"Yes, it's on the table in the next room." + +She went into the adjoining room and seated herself by the table. Taking +up _The Record_, she turned to the editorial page, but before she could +begin reading she heard a voice in the office say, "How do you do, +Doctor?" + +"How do you do, Mr. Jenkins. Take a seat." + +"No, I guess I'll not sit down. I just wanted to get--a prescription." + +"The baby's better, isn't it?" + +"Oh, the baby's all right, but I want a prescription for myself." + +"What sort of prescription?" + +"I have to take a long ride in the morning, driving cattle, and I want a +prescription for a pint of whiskey." + +Mary listened for her husband's reply. It came. + +"Jenkins, I have taken many a long ride through dust and heat, through +rain and snow and storm, and I never yet have had to take any whiskey +along." + +"Well, I have a little trouble with my heart and--" + +"The trouble's in your head. If you'd throw away that infernal pipe--" + +"Oh, it's no use to lecture me on that any more." + +"Very well, your tobacco may be worth more to you than your heart." + +"Well, will you give me that prescription?" + +"Certainly I won't. You don't need whiskey and you'll not get it from +me." + +"Go to h-ll!" + +"All right, I'll meet _you_ there." At which warm farewell between these +two good friends, Mary leaned back in her chair and laughed silently. +Then she mused: "People will not be saved from themselves. If only they +would be, how much less of sin and sickness and sorrow there would be in +the world." + +Presently the doctor came in. + +"I have a trip to make tonight, Mary. How would you like a star-light +drive?" Mary said she would like it very much indeed. + +Accordingly, at sunset the doctor drove up and soon they were out in the +open country. Chatting of many things they drove along and by and by +Mary's eyes were attracted to a beautiful castle up in the clouds in the +west, on a great golden rock jutting out into the blue. Far below was a +grand woman's form in yellow floating robes. She stood with face +upturned and arms extended in an attitude of sorrow as if she had been +banished from her father's house. + +There comes the father now. Slowly, majestically, an old man with +flowing beard of gold moves toward the edge of the great rock. Now he +has reached it. He bends his head and looks below. The attitude of the +majestic woman has changed to that of supplication. And now the father +stretches down forgiving arms and the queenly daughter bows her head +against the mighty wall and weeps in gladness. Now castle and rock, +father and daughter slowly interchange places and vanish from her sight. +The gold turns to crimson, then fades to gray. Just before her up there +in the clouds is a huge lion, couchant. See! he is going to spring +across the pale blue chasm to the opposite bank. If he fails he will +come right down into the road--"Oh!" + +"What is it?" asked the doctor, looking around, and Mary told him with a +rather foolish smile. + +The twilight deepened into dusk and the notes of a whippoorwill came to +them from a distance. "You and I must have nothing but sweet thoughts +right now, John, because then we'll get to keep them for a year." She +quoted: + + "'Tis said that whatever sweet feeling + May be throbbing within the fond heart, + When listening to a whippoorwill s-pieling, + For a twelvemonth will never depart." + +"Spieling doesn't seem specially in the whippoorwill's line." + +"It's _exactly_ in his line. Years ago when I was a little girl he +proved it. One evening at dusk I was sitting in an arbor when he, not +suspecting my presence, alighted within a few feet of me and began his +song. It was wonderfully interesting to watch his little throat puff and +puff with the notes as they poured forth, but the thing that astounded +me was the length of time he sang without ever pausing for breath. And +so he is a genuine spieler. I will add, however, that the line is 'When +listening to a whippoorwill _singing_.' But my literary conscience will +never let me rhyme _singing_ with _feeling_, hence the sudden change." + +"Now I'll speak _my_ piece," announced the doctor: + + "De frogs in de pon' am a singin' all de night; + Wid de hallelujah campmeetin' tune; + An' dey all seem to try wid deir heart, soul and might + To tell us ob de comin' of de June." + +"_Aren't_ they having a hallelujah chorus over in that meadow, though!" + +Darkness settled over the earth. The willow trees, skirting the road for +a little distance, lifted themselves in ghostly tracery against the +starlit sky. A soft breeze stirred their branches like the breath of a +gentle spirit abiding there. They passed a cozy farmhouse nestled down +among tall trees. Through the open door they could see a little +white-robed figure being carried to bed in its father's arms, while the +mother crooned a lullaby over the cradle near. + +For a long time they drove in silence. Mary knew that her husband was in +deep thought. Of what was he thinking? The pretty home scene in the farm +house had sent him into a reverie. He went back five or six years to a +bright spring day. He was sitting alone in his office when an old man, a +much respected farmer, came in slowly, closed the door behind him and +sat down. The doctor who knew him quite well saw that he was troubled +and asked if there was anything he could do for him. The old man leaned +his head on his hand but did not reply. It seemed that no words would +come in which to tell his errand. + +Puzzled and sympathetic the doctor sat silent and waited. In a little +while the farmer drew his chair very near to that of the doctor's and +said in a low voice, "Doctor, I'm in deep trouble. I come to you because +you are one of my best friends. You have a chance to prove it now such +as you never had before in all the years you've been our doctor." + +"Tell me your trouble and if I can help you, I will certainly do so." + +"It's Mary. She's gone wrong, and the disgrace will kill her mother if +she finds it out." + +For an instant the doctor did not speak; then he asked, "Are you sure +that this is true?" + +"Yes. She came to me last night and nestled down in my arms, just as +she's done every night since she was a baby. She cried like her heart +would break and then she said, 'Father, I _must_ tell you, but don't +tell mother'; and then she told me." + +The old man, white and trembling, looked beseechingly at the doctor. + +"Doctor, this must not be. You must stop it before there is any breath +of scandal. Oh, for a minute last night I wanted to kill her." + +The doctor's face was stern. "If you had killed her your crime would +have been far less hellish than the one you ask me to commit." + +The old man bowed his head upon his hands. "You will not help me," he +groaned. + +The doctor rose and walked the floor. "No, sir," he said, "I will not +stain my soul with murder for you or any other man." He went to the +window and stood looking out upon the street below. Presently he said, +"Mr. Stirling, will you come here a minute?" The old man rose and went. +"Do you see that little boy skipping along down there?" + +"Yes, I see him." + +"If I should go down these stairs, seize him and dash his brains out +against that building, what would you think of me?" + +"I'd think you were a devil." + +"Yet he would have a chance for his life. He could cry out, or the +passersby might see me and interpose, while that you ask me to destroy +is--" + +"There's one thing I'll do," said the old man fiercely. "I'll kill Ben +Morely before this day is over!" He seized his hat and started toward +the door. + +"Wait a minute!" said the doctor quickly. "It's Ben Morely is it? I know +him. I would not have thought him capable of this." + +"He's been coming to see Mary steady for more than a year and they were +to have been married three months ago but they quarreled and Mary told +me last night that he was going away the last of this week. She is as +good and sweet a girl as ever lived. She never kept company with anybody +else and she thought the world of him. The damned villain has got around +her with his honey words and now he proposes to leave her to face it +alone. But I'll kill him as sure as the sun shines." + +"Sit down," said the doctor, laying a hand on the excited man's arm and +forcing him into a chair. + +"Let me tell you what to do. Young Morely's father is a good and +sensible man and will take the right view of it. Go straight to him and +tell him all about it and my word for it, he will see that they are +married right away. He is able to help them along and will make it to +his son's advantage to stay here rather than go away. He will advise him +right. Have no fear." The old man wrung the doctor's hand in silence and +went out. + +Several days later the doctor was looking over the papers published in +the town and read in the list of marriage licenses the names, "Benjamin +Morely, aged twenty-four, Mary Stirling, aged eighteen." + +And that is why the scene in the farmhouse this summer night had sent +him back into the past, for it was the home of Benjamin and Mary Morely, +and it was a happy home. These two lives had come together and flowed on +in such harmony and helpfulness and rectitude before the world that the +stain had been wiped out. For a merciless world can be merciful +sometimes if it will only stop to remember that long ago a compassionate +Voice said, Go and sin no more. + +The doctor's reverie came to an end for he had reached his +destination--a large white house standing very close to the road. + +"Don't talk to me while you are hitching the horse," Mary whispered, +"then they won't know there is anyone with you. I don't want to go in--I +want to see the moon come up." + +The doctor took his case and went inside. Mary sat in the buggy and +listened. The neighing of a horse far down the road and the barking of a +dog in the distance were the only sounds she heard. How still and cool +it was after the heat of the day. A wandering breeze brought the sweet +perfume of dewy clover fields. She looked across the intervening knoll +to the east. The tree that crowned its summit stood outlined against the +brightening sky. She was sitting very near the open kitchen window and +now saw the family taking their places around the supper table. She felt +a little uncomfortable and as if she were trespassing on their privacy. +But they did not know of her proximity and she could only sit still in +the friendly cover of the darkness. How good the ham smelled and the +potatoes and the coffee. + +A pretty home-scene! + +The father at the head of the table, the mother opposite with four +sturdy boys between them, two on each side. The father looked around the +board. Stillness settled down upon them, and then he bowed his head. The +mother, too, bowed her head. The boys looked down. + +"Our heavenly Father, we thank Thee for these evening blessings--" the +boys looked up and four forks started simultaneously for the meat +platter. Every fork impaled its slice. Mary gasped. She crammed her +handkerchief into her mouth to shut off the laughter that almost shouted +itself before she could stop it. + +The oldest boy, a burly fellow of fifteen, looked astonished and then +sheepish. The other three looked defiance at him. Each sat erect in +perfect silence and held his slice to the platter with a firm hand. +Mary, almost suffocating with laughter which _must_ be suppressed, +watched anxiously for the denouement. The blessing went on. The boys +evidently knew all its stages. As it advanced there was a tightening of +the tension and at the welcome "amen" there was a grand rake-off. + +At the commotion of the sudden swipe the father and mother looked up in +amazement. + +"Boys, boys! what do you mean!" exclaimed the mother. + +"We got even with Mr. Jake that time." It was the second boy who spoke. + +"We got _ahead_ of him," said the third. "He didn't get the biggest +piece this time." + +"No, _I_ got it myself," said the fourth. + +"Well, I'm scandalized," said the mother, looking across the table at +her husband. + +"Well, Mother, I'll tell you how it was," said the second boy. "Last +night I looked up before Father was through with the blessing and I saw +Jake with his fork in the biggest piece of ham. You and Father didn't +notice and so he was _it_. I'll bet he's been at it a good while, too." + +"I've not, either," said the accused. + +"I told Bob and Jim about it and we concluded _we'd_ take a hand in it +tonight." + +"Well, let this be the last of it," said the father with mild sternness. +"We'll try to have ham enough for all of you without sneaking it. If +not, Jacob can have his mother's share and mine." + +The trio of boys grinned triumphantly at the discomfited Jake, then, the +little flurry over, all fell to eating with a will. + +The doctor's voice came to Mary from the room of the patient. + +"You're worth a dozen dead women yet," it said. Then a high pitched +woman's voice, "I'll tell you what Mary Ann says she thinks about it." + +"Has she been here today?" If Mary Ann had been there the unfavorable +condition of the patient was explained. + +"Yes, she just went away. She says she believes you're just keepin' +Ellen down so you can get a big bill out of her." + +The doctor was fixing up powders and went placidly on till he got +through, then he said "Mary Ann has a better opinion of me than I +thought she had. It takes a mighty good doctor to do that. That's a very +old song but there are a few people in the world that like to sing it +yet. They don't know that there isn't a doctor in the world that knows +enough to do a thing like that even if he wanted to. Nature would beat +him every time if they gave her a chance." + +Mary heard the doctor give his instructions and then he came out. As +they drove off she asked, "You came pretty near catching a tartar, +didn't you?" + +"Oh, that one is all right. It's her sister that's always raising the +devil." + +"Look! isn't she lovely, John?" + +"Isn't who lovely?" asked the doctor, looking back at the house in some +surprise. + +"The gentle Shepherdess of Night," Mary answered, her eyes on the moon +just rising over the distant treetops. + +"She's getting ready to 'lead her flocks through the fields of blue.'" + +"How very poetical we are." + +"Only an echo from a little song I used to sing when I was a little +girl." + +"Get up, my steeds," urged the doctor, "we must be getting back"; and +they sped swiftly homeward through the soft summer night. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Hello." + +"Is this the doctor's office?" + +"This is his residence." + +"Pshaw! I wanted his _office_." + +"The doctor 'phoned me about ten minutes ago that he would be out for +half an hour and asked me to answer the 'phone in his absence," Mary +explained, pleasantly. + +"Oh," said the voice, somewhat mollified, "I'll just call him up when he +gets back. You say he'll be back in half an hour?" + +"In about that time." + +She went back to her work, which happened to be upstairs this morning, +leaving the doors ajar behind her that she might hear the 'phone. In two +minutes she was summoned down. + +"What is it?" + +"Is this the doctor's office?" + +"No, the residence." + +"I rang for the office, sorry to have troubled you, Mrs. Blank," said a +man's voice. + +"We are connected and when the doctor is out he expects me to be +bell-boy," said Mary, recognizing the voice. + +"I see. Will you please tell the doctor when he comes that my little boy +is sick this morning and I want him to come down. Will he be back soon?" + +"In a few minutes, I think." + +She sat down by the fire. No use to go back upstairs till she had +delivered the message. This was a pleasing contrast to the other; Mr. +Owen had volunteered his message as if she really had a right to know +and deliver it. + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Mary felt reluctant to +answer it--it sounded so like the first. And it was not the house call +this time, but two rings which undeniably meant the office. But she must +be true to the trust reposed in her. She went to the 'phone and softly +taking down the receiver, listened; perhaps the doctor had got back and +would answer it himself. Fervently she hoped so. But there was only +silence at her ear, and the ever present far-off clack of attenuated +voices. The silence seemed to bristle. But there was nothing for our +listener to do but thrust herself into it. + +"Hello," she said, very gently. + +"O, I've got _you_ again, have I! I _know_ I rung the office this time, +for I looked in the book to see. How does it happen I get the house?" +Ill temper was manifest in every word. + +"The office and residence are connected," explained Mary, patiently, +"and when the 'phone rings while the doctor is out, he asks me to answer +it for him." + +"I don't see what good _that_ does." + +"It doesn't do any good when people do not care to leave a message," +said Mary quietly. + +"Well, I'd ruther deliver my message to _him_." + +"Certainly. And I would much rather you would. I can at least say about +what time he expects to return." + +"You said awhile ago he'd be back in half an hour and he's not back +_yet_." + +The doctor's wife knew that she was held responsible for the delay. She +smiled and glanced at the clock. + +"It is just three minutes past the half hour," she said. + +"Well, we're in an awful hurry for him. I'll ring agin d'reckly." + +In five minutes a ring came again. Surely he would be there now, thought +his wife, but she must go to the 'phone. She listened. Silence. Then the +bell pealed sharply forth again. She decided to change her tactics and +put the other woman on the defensive: + +"Well!" she said impatiently, "I'm _very_ sorry to have to answer you +again but--" + +"Is the doctor there?" asked a sweet, new voice. "Pardon me for +interrupting you, but I'm very anxious." + +"He will be at the office in just a few minutes," Mary answered, very +gently indeed. She realized now that one cannot "monkey" with the +telephone. + +"Will you please tell him to come at once?" and she gave the street and +number. + +"I shall send him at once." + +"Thank you, good-bye." + +Before Mary could seat herself, the expected ring came in earnest. She +answered it meekly. + +"O, good gracious! hain't he got there yet--?" + +"Not yet," said Mary, offering nothing further. + +"Well, I've jist _got_ to have a doctor. I'll git some one else." The +threat in the tone made our listener smile. + +"I think it would be a good thing to do," she said. + +A pause. Then a voice with softening accents. + +"But I'd lots ruther have Dr. Blank." No reply. + +"Are ye there yit, Mrs. Blank?" + +"Yes. I am here." + +"He'll surely be back in a little bit now, won't he?" + +"I think so." + +"Won't _you_ tell 'im to come down to Sairey Tucker's? I'm her sister +and she's bad sick." + +"If you will tell me where you live I will send him." + +"He knows--he's been here." + +"Very well," and she rang off. + +With three messages hanging over her head and her conscience, she could +not go upstairs to her work. She must dawdle about at this or that 'till +the doctor returned. After awhile she went to the 'phone and called the +office. No reply. How she longed to deliver those messages. She dreaded +any more calls from the waiting ones. She waited a few minutes then rang +again. Thank fortune! Her husband's response is in her ear, the messages +are delivered and she goes singing up the stairs. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. + +It was the telephone on the Doctor's office table and a tall young +fellow was ringing it. When he got the number and asked, "Is this you, +Fanny?" his face took on an expression good to see. It was Fanny, and he +settled back on one elbow and asked, "What you doing, Fanny?" + +"Nothing, just now. What _you_ doing?" + +"Something a good deal better than that." + +"What is it?" + +"It's talking to _you_." + +"Oh!" + +"Is that all you have to say about it?" his voice was growing tender. + +"Now, Tom, don't go to making love to me over the 'phone." + +"How can I help it, sweetheart?" + +"Where are you, anyway?" + +"I'm in Dr. Blank's office." + +"Good gracious! is _he_ there? I'll ring off--good-bye." + +"Wait! Fanny--Fanny!" + +Fanny was waiting, but how could a mere man know that. He rang the +number again with vehemence. + +"Now, Tom Laurence, I want you to quit going into people's offices and +talking to me this way." + +"Don't you think my way is nicer than yours--huh?" + +The circumflexes were irresistible. + +"Well, tell me, Tom, is Dr. Blank there?" + +"No, honey. He's away in the back room busy with another patient. He +can't hear." + +"_Another_ patient? Why, Tom, you're not _sick_, are you--huh?" + +Fanny's circumflexes were quite as circumflexible as Tom's and a thrill +went down the young giant's spine. + +"No, but I wish I was!" + +At this juncture the man who could not hear came in with a face as grave +and non-committal as the Sphinx, and the young man asked through the +'phone in brisk, cheery tones, "How are you this morning?" then added in +a whisper, "He's here now." + +"Is he? Don't talk foolish then. Why, I'm not very well." + +"What's the matter?" + +"I burned my eye." + +"Burned your eye! Confound it! How did you _do_ it?" + +"With a curling iron." + +"Throw the darned thing away." He turned from the telephone and said, +"Doctor, a young lady has burned her eye. I want you to go out there +right away." + +"Where shall I go?" asked the grave doctor. + +"I guess you know," and he grinned. + +"All right. I'll go pretty soon." + +"Don't be too long. Charge it to me." + +"Fanny," he said, turning back to the 'phone, but Fanny had gone. + +And soon with a smile that had memories in it the doctor took his case +and left the office, the young man at his side. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. + +Mary, from the living room, heard her husband's voice: + +"What is it?" + +"Yes." + +"They won't? O, I suppose so if nobody else will. I'll be up there in a +little bit." He muttered something, took his hat and went. + +When he came back, he said, "This time I had to help the dead." + +"To help the dead!" exclaimed Mary. + +"Yes. To help a dead woman into her coffin. Everybody was afraid to +touch her." + +"Why?" + +"The report got out that she died of smallpox. I only saw her once and +could not be sure, but to be on the safe side I insisted that every +precaution be taken--hence the scare." + +"But how could you lift the body without help?" + +"Oh, I managed it somehow. Just the same I'd rather minister to the +living," said John, to which Mary gave vigorous assent. + + * * * * * + +"Old Mr. Vintner has just been 'phoning for you in a most imperious +way," announced Mary as the doctor came in at the door. + +"Yes, old skinflint! The maid at his house is very sick and he's so +afraid they'll have to take care of her that he's determined to send her +home when she can't go. She has pneumonia. She lives miles out in the +country--" + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling. + +"Yes." + +"Now see here, Vintner. Listen to me." + +"Yes, I know. But a man's got to be _human_. I tell you you can't send +her out in this cold. It's outrageous to--" + +"Yes, I know all that, too. But it won't be long--the crisis will come +in a day or two now and--" + +"Damn it! Listen. Now stop that and listen. Don't you attempt it! That +girl will be to drag off if you do, I tell you--" + +"All right then. That sounds more like it," and he hung up the receiver. + +Mary looked up. "You are not very elegant in your discourse at times, +John, but I'm glad you beat," she said. + + * * * * * + +One evening the doctor came in and walked hurriedly into the +dining-room. As he was passing the telephone it rang sharply in his ear. + +"What is it?" he asked, hastily putting up the receiver. + +An agitated voice said, "Oh, Doctor, I've just given my little girl a +teaspoonful of carbolic acid! Quick! What must I do!" + +"Give her some whiskey at once; then a teaspoonful of mustard in hot +water. I'll be right down," and turning he went swiftly out. When he +came back an hour or two later he said: "The mother got the wrong +bottle. A very few minutes would have done the work. The telephone saved +the child's life. This is a glorious age in which we are living, Mary." + +"And to think that some little children playing with tin cans with a +string stretched between them, gave to the world its first telephone +message." + +"Yes, I've heard that. It may or may not be true. Now let's have +supper." + +"Supper awaits Mr. Non-Committal-Here-As-Ever," said Mary as she laid +her arm in her husband's and they went toward the dining-room together. + + * * * * * + +One evening the doctor and Mary sat chatting with a neighbor who had +dropped in. + +"I want to use your 'phone a minute, please," said a voice. + +"Very well," said Mary, and Mrs. X. stepped in, nodded to the trio, +walked to the telephone as one quite accustomed, and rang. + +"I want Dr. Brown's office," she said. In a minute came the hello. + +"Is this Dr. Brown? My little boy is sick. I want you to come out to see +him this evening. This is Mrs. X. Will you be right out?" + +"All right. Good-bye." And she departed. + +The eyes of the visitor twinkled. "Our neighbor hath need of two great +blessings," she said, "a telephone and a sense of humor." Mary laughed +merrily, "O, we're so used to it we paid no attention," she said, "but I +suppose it did strike you as rather funny." + +"It's a heap better than it used to be when we didn't have telephones," +said the doctor, with the hearty laugh that had helped many a downcast +man and woman to look on the bright side. + +"When I was a young fellow and first hung up my shingle it was a +surprising thing--the number of people who could get along without me. I +used to long for some poor fellow to put his head in at the door and say +he needed me. At last one dark, rainy night came the quick, importunate +knock of someone after a doctor. No mistaking that knock. I opened the +door and an elderly woman who lived near me, asked breathlessly, 'Mr. +Blank, will you do me a great favor?' + +'Certainly,' I answered promptly. + +'My husband is very sick and I came to see if you would go down and ask +Dr. Smithson to come and see him.' I swallowed my astonishment and +wrath, put on my rubber coat and went for the doctor." + +"But she had the grace to come in next day," said Mary, "and tell me in +much confusion that she was greatly embarrassed and ashamed. It had not +entered her head until that morning that my husband was a physician." + +"You see," put in the doctor, "she had not taken me seriously; in fact +had not taken me at all." + +"Tell us about the old man who had you come in to see if he needed a +doctor," said Mary. The doctor smiled, "_That_ was when I didn't count, +too," he said. + +"This old fellow got sick one day and wanted to send for old Dr. Brown, +but being of a thrifty turn of mind he didn't want to unless he had to. +He knew me pretty well so he sent for me to come and see if he _needed_ +a doctor. If I thought he did he'd send for Brown. I chatted with him +awhile and he felt better. Next day he sent word to me again that he +wished I'd stop as I went by and I did. This kept up several days and he +got better and better, and finally got well _without_ any doctor, as he +said." + +The visitor laughed, "You doctors could unfold many a tale--" + +"If the telephone would permit," said Mary, as the doctor answered the +old summons, took his hat and left. + + * * * * * + +"John," said Mary one day, "I wish you would disconnect the house from +the office." + +"No! You're a lot of help to me," protested the doctor. + +"Well, I heard someone wrangling with central today because the house +answered when it was the office that was wanted." She laughed. "I know +there are people who fancy the doctor's wife enjoying to the utmost her +'sweet privilege' of answering the 'phone in her husband's absence. +Poor, innocent souls! If they could only know the deadly weariness of it +all--but they can't." + +"Why, I didn't know you felt quite that way about it, Mary. I suppose I +can disconnect it but--" + +"But you don't see how you can? Never mind, then. We'll go on, and some +sweet day you'll retire from practice. Then hully-gee! won't I be free! +You didn't choose the right sort of helpmeet, John. You surely could +have selected one who would enjoy thrusting herself into the reluctant +confidences of people far more than this one." + +"I'm resigned to my lot," laughed John, as he kissed his wife and +departed. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this you, Doctor?" + +"Yes." + +"What am I ever to do with Jane?" + +"Keep her in bed! That's what to do with her." + +"Well, I've got a mighty hard job. She's feeling so much better, she +just _will_ get up." + +"Keep her down for awhile yet." + +"Well, maybe I can today, but I won't answer for tomorrow. She says she +feels like she can jump over the house." + +"She can't, though." + +Laughter. "I'll do the best I can, Doctor, but that won't be much. +Keeping her in bed is easier said than done," and the doctor grinned a +very ready assent as he hung up the receiver. + + * * * * * + +The doctor's family was seated at dinner. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. John +rose, napkin in hand, and went while the clatter of knives and forks +instantly ceased. + +"Yes." + +"Why didn't you do as I told you, yesterday?" + +"I _told_ you what to do." + +"Well, did you put them in hot water?" + +"Then do it. Do it right away. Have the water _hot_, now." + +He came back and went on with his dinner. Mary admitted to herself a +little curiosity as to what was to be put into hot water. In a few +minutes the dinner was finished and the doctor was gone. + +"I bet I know what that was," spoke up the small boy. + +"What?" asked his sister. + +"Diphtheria clothes. There's a family in town that's got the +diphtheria." + +Mary was relieved--not that there should be diphtheria in town, but that +the answer for which her mind was vaguely groping had probably been +found. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. When the doctor had answered the summons he told +Mary he would have to go down to a little house at the edge of town +about a mile away. When he came back an hour later he sat down before +the fire with his wife. "I remember a night nineteen years ago when I +was called to that house--a little boy was born. I used to see the +little fellow occasionally as he grew up and pity him because he had no +show at all. Tonight I saw him, a great strapping fellow with a good +position and no bad habits. He'll make it all right now." + +The doctor paused for a moment, then went on. "They didn't pay me then. +I remember that. I mentioned it tonight in the young fellow's presence." + +"John, you surely didn't!" + +"Yes, I did. His mother said she guessed Jake could pay the bill +himself." + +Mary looked at this husband of hers with a quizzical smile. + +"Doesn't it strike you that you are going pretty far back for your +bill?" + +"There's no good reason why this boy should not pay the bill if he wants +to." + +"No, I suppose not. But I don't believe he was so keen to get into the +world as all that." + +"Well, it wouldn't surprise me much if that young fellow should come +into my office one of these days and offer to settle that old score now +that he knows about it." + +"Don't you take it if he does!" and Mary left the room quite unconscious +that her pronoun was without an antecedent. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this you, Doctor?" + +"It is." + +"I expect you will have to come out to our house." + +"Who is it?" + +"This is Mary Milton." + +"What's the matter out there, Mrs. Milton?" + +"Polly's gone and hurt her shoulder. I guess she run it into the +ground." + +"Was she thrown from a horse or a vehicle?" + +"No." + +"Then how could she run it into the ground?" + +"Polly Milton can run _everything_ into the ground!" and the tone was +exasperation itself. "I come purty near havin' to send for you +yesterday, but I managed to get 'er out." + +"Out of _what_?" + +"The clothes-wringer. She caught her stomach fast between the rollers +and nearly took a piece out of it. Nobody wanted her to turn it but she +would do it." + +"Well, what has she done _today_?" asked the doctor, getting impatient. + +"I'm plum ashamed to tell ye. She was a-playin' leap-frog." + +"Good! I'd like to play it myself once more." + +"I thought you'd be scandalized. Some of the girls come over to see 'er +and the first thing I knowed they was out in the yard playin' leap-frog +like a passel o' boys." + +"That's good for 'em," announced the doctor. + +"It wasn't very good for Polly." + +"The shoulder is probably dislocated. I'll be out in a little while and +we'll soon fix it." + +"But a great big girl nearly fourteen years old oughtn't--" + +"She's all right. Don't you scold her too much." He laughed as he hung +up the receiver, then ordered his horse brought round and in a few +minutes was on his way to the luckless maiden. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling--three rings. + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"Can you come down to James Curtis's right away?" + +"Yes--I guess so. What's the matter?" + +James Curtis stated the matter and the doctor put up the receiver, went +to the door and looked out. + +"Gee-mi-nee! It's as dark as a stack of black cats," he said. + +In a little while he was off. He had to go horseback and as the horse he +usually rode was lame he took Billy who was little more than a colt. +Before Mary retired she went to the door and opened it. It was fearfully +dark but John had said it was only a few miles. His faithful steed could +find the way if he could not. John always got through somehow. With this +comforting assurance she went to bed. By and by the 'phone was ringing +and she was springing up and hastening to answer it. To the hurried +inquiry she replied, "He is in the country." + +"How soon will he be back?" + +She looked at the clock. Nearly three hours since he left home. + +"I expected him before this; he will surely be here soon." + +A message was left for him to come at once to a certain street and +number, and Mary went back to bed. But she could not sleep. Soon she was +at the 'phone again, asking central to give her the residence of James +Curtis. + +"Hello." + +"Is this Mr. Curtis?" + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"Is Dr. Blank there?" + +"He was, but he started home about an hour ago. He ought to be there by +this time." + +"Thank you," said Mary, reassured. He would be home in a little bit then +and she went back to her pillow. + +It was well she could not know that her husband was lost in the woods. +The young horse, not well broken to the roads, had strayed from the +beaten path. The doctor had first become aware of it when his hat was +brushed off by low branches. He dismounted, and holding the bridle on +one arm, got down on hands and knees and began feeling about with both +hands in the blackness. It seemed a fruitless search, but at last he +found it and put it securely on his head. He did not remount, but tried +to find his way back into the path. + +After awhile the colt stopped suddenly. He urged it on. Snap! A big +something was hurled through the bushes and landed at the doctor's feet +with a heavy thud. The pommel of the saddle had caught on a grape vine +and the girths had snapped with the strain. John made a few remarks +while he was picking it up and a few more while he was getting it on the +back of the shying colt. But he finally landed it and managed to get it +half-fastened. He stood still, not knowing which way to turn. A dog was +barking somewhere--he would go in that direction. Still keeping the +bridle over his arm he spread his hands before him and slowly moved on. + +At last he stopped. He seemed to be getting no nearer to the dog. All at +once, and not a great way off, he saw a fine sight. It was a lighted +doorway with the figure of a man in it. He shouted lustily, + +"Bring a lantern out here, my friend, if you please. I guess I'm lost." + +"All right," the man shouted back and in a few minutes the lantern was +bobbing along among the trees. "Why, Doctor!" exclaimed James Curtis, +"have you been floundering around all this time in these woods so close +to the house? Why didn't you holler before?" + +"There didn't seem to be anything to 'holler' at. Until that door opened +I thought I was in the middle of these woods." + +"Your wife just telephoned to know if you were at our house and I told +her you started home an hour ago." + +"She'll be uneasy. Put me into the main road, will you, and we'll make +tracks for home." + +When he got there and had told Mary about it, she vowed she would not +let him go to the country again when the night was so pitch dark, +realizing as she made it, the futility of her vow. Then she told him of +the message that had come in his absence and straightway sent him out +again into the darkness. + + * * * * * + +It was midnight. The doctor was snoring so loudly that he had awakened +Mary. Just in time. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling. By hard work she got him +awake. He floundered out and along toward the little tyrant. He reached +it. + +"Hello. What is it?" + +"O! I got the wrong number." + +"Damnation!" + +Slumber again. After some time Mary was awakened by her husband's voice +asking, "What is it?" + +"It's time for George to take his medicine. We've been having a dispute +about it. I said it was the powder he was to take at two o'clock and he +said it was the medicine in the bottle. Now he's mad and won't take +either." + +"It was the powder. Tell him I say for him to take it now." + +The answering voice sank to a whisper, but the words came very +distinctly, "I'm afraid he won't do it--he's so stubborn. I wish it was +the bottle medicine because I believe he would take that." + +The doctor chuckled. "Give him that," he said. "It won't make a great +deal of difference in this case, and thinking he was in the right will +do him more good than the powder. Good night and report in the morning." + +The report in the morning was that George was better! + + * * * * * + +It was a lovely Sabbath in May. The doctor's wife had been out on the +veranda, looking about her. Everywhere was bloom and beauty, fragrance +and song. Long she sat in silent contemplation of the scene. At last a +drowsiness stole over her and she went in and settled herself for a doze +in the big easy chair. + +Soon a tinkling fell upon her drowsy ear. + +"Oh! that must have been the telephone. I wonder if it was two rings or +three--I'd better listen," she said with a sigh as she pulled herself +up. + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" The voice was faint and indistinct. + +"Hello?" said Mary's husband's voice, with the rising inflection. + +"Hello?" A more pronounced rise. No answer. + +"Hello!" falling inflection. Here Mary interposed. + +"It's some lady, Doctor, I heard her." + +"Hello!" with a fiercely falling inflection. + +"Dr. Blank," said the faint voice, "I forgot how you said to take those +red tablets." Mary caught all the sentence though only the last three +words came distinctly. + +"Yes?" Her husband's 'yes' was plainly an interrogation waiting for what +was to follow. She understood. He had heard only the words "those red +tablets." Again she must interpose. + +"Doctor, she says she forgot how you told her to take those red +tablets." + +"O! Why, take one every--" + +Mary hung up the receiver and went back to resume her interrupted nap. +She settled back on the cushions and by and by became oblivious to all +about her. Sweetly she slept for awhile then started up rubbing her +eyes. She went hurriedly to the 'phone and put the receiver to her ear. +Silence. + +"Hello?" she said. No answer. Smiling a little foolishly she went back +to her chair. "It isn't surprising that I dreamed it." For a few minutes +she lay looking out into the snow flakes of the cherry blooms. Then came +the bell--three rings. + +"I hope it's John asking me to drive to the country," she thought as she +hurried to the 'phone. It was not. It was a woman's voice asking, + +"How much of that gargle must I use at a time?" + +"Oh dear," thought Mary, "what questions people do ask! When a gargler +is a-gargling, I should think she could _tell_ how much to use." + +The doctor evidently thought so too for he answered with quick +impatience, "Aw-enough to _gargle_ with." Then he added, "If it's too +strong weaken it a little." + +"How much water must I put in it?" Mary sighed hopelessly and stayed to +hear no more. Again she sank back in her chair hoping fervently that no +more foolish questions were to rouse her from it. + +When she was dozing off the bell rang so sharply she was on her feet and +at the 'phone almost before she knew it. + +"Doctor, the whole outfit's drunk again down here." + +A woman's voice was making the announcement. + +"Is that so?" The doctor's voice was calm and undisturbed. + +"Yes. The woman's out here in the street just jumpin' up and down. I +think _she's_ about crazy." + +"She hasn't far to go." + +"Her father's drunk too and so's her husband. Will you come down?" + +"No, I don't think I'll come down this time." + +"Well, then will you send an officer?" + +"No-o--I don't--" + +"I wish you _would_." + +"Well, I'll try to send someone." + + * * * * * + +Mary was at last too wide awake to think of dozing. This blot on the +sweet May Sabbath drove away all thought of day dreams. Poor, miserable +human creatures! Poor, long-suffering neighbors, and poor John! + +"All sorts of people appeal to him in all sorts of cases, and often in +cases which do not come within a doctor's province at all--he is guide, +counsellor and friend," she thought as she put on her hat and went out +for a walk. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +One Sunday morning at the beginning of August, Mary stood in the +church--as it chanced, in the back row--and sang with her next neighbor +from the same hymn book, John Newton's good old hymn, + + "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound + That saved a wretch like me!" + +It was the opening hymn and they were in the midst of the third verse. + + "Thro' many dangers, toils and snares, + I have already come"; + +sang Mary. + +She did not dream that another danger, toil and snare was approaching +her at that instant from the rear and so her clear soprano rang out +unfaltering on the next line-- + + "'Tis grace that brought me safe thus far--" + +Then a hand was laid upon her shoulder. She turned and started as she +saw her husband's face bending to her. What had happened at home? + +"Wouldn't you like to go to the country?" whispered the doctor. + +"Why--I don't like to leave church to go," Mary whispered back. + +"The carriage is right here at the door." + +The next instant she had taken her parasol from behind the hymn-books in +front of her, where she had propped it a few minutes before, with some +misgiving lest it fall to the floor during prayer, and just as the +congregation sang the last line, + + "And grace will lead me home," + +she glided from the church by the side of the doctor, thankful that in +the bustle of sitting down the congregation would not notice her +departure. They descended the steps, entered the waiting carriage and +off they sped. + +"I feel guilty," said Mary, a little dazed over the swift transfer. The +doctor did not reply. In another minute she turned to him with energy. + +"John, what possessed you to come to _the church_?" + +"Why, I couldn't get you at home. I drove around there and Mollie said +you had gone to church so I just drove there." + +"You ought to have gone without me." + +The doctor smiled. "You didn't _have_ to go. But you are better off out +here than sitting in the church." The horse switched his tail over the +reins and the doctor, failing in his effort to release them, gave vent +to a vigorous expletive. + +"Yes, I certainly do hear some things out here that I wouldn't be apt to +hear in there," she said. Then the reins being released and serenity +restored, they went on. + +"Isn't that a pretty sight?" The doctor nodded his head toward two +little girls in fresh white dresses who stood on the side-walk anxiously +watching his approach. There was earnest interest in the blue eyes and +the black. Near the little girls stood a white-headed toddler of about +two years and by his side a boy seven or eight years old. + +"Mr. Blank," called the blue-eyed little girl--all men with or without +titles are _Mr._ to little folks;--the doctor stopped his horse. + +"Well, what is it, Mamie?" + +"I want you to bring my mamma a baby." + +"You do!" + +"Yes, sir, a boy baby. Mamie and me wants a little brother," chimed in +the little black-eyed girl. + +The boy looked down at the toddler beside him and then at the two little +girls with weary contempt. "You don't know what you're a-gittin' into," +he said. "If this one hadn't never learned to walk it wouldn't be so +bad, but he jist learns _everything_ and he jist bothers me _all the +time_." + +The doctor and Mary laughed with great enjoyment. "Now! what'd I tell +you!" said the boy, as he ran to pick up the toddler who at that instant +fell off the sidewalk. He gave him a vigorous shake as he set him on his +feet and a roar went up. "Don't you _git_ any baby at your house," he +said, warningly. + +"Yes, bring us one, Mr. Blank, please do, a little _bit_ of a one," said +Mamie, and the black eyes pleaded too. + +"Well, I'll tell you. If you'll be good and do whatever your mamma tells +you, maybe I _will_ find a baby one of these days and if I do I'll bring +it to your house." He drove on. + +"If they knew what I know their little hearts would almost burst for +joy. Their father is just as anxious for a boy as they are, too," he +added. + +They were soon out in the open country. It was one of those lovely days +which sometimes come at this season of the year which seem to belong to +early autumn; neither too warm nor too cool for comfort. A soft haze lay +upon the landscape and over all the Sunday calm. They turned into a +broad, dusty road. Mary's eyes wandered across the meadow on the right +with its background of woods in the distance. A solitary cow stood +contentedly in the shade of a solitary tree, while far above a vulture +sailed on slumbrous wings. + +The old rail fence and the blackberry briars hugging it here and there +in clumps; small clusters of the golden-rod, even now a pale yellow, +which by and by would glorify all the country lanes; the hazel bushes +laden with their delightful promise for the autumn--Mary noted them all. +They passed unchallenged those wayside sentinels, the tall +mullein-stalks. The Venus Looking-Glass nodded its blue head ever so +gently as the brown eyes fell upon it and then they went a little way +ahead to where the blossoms of the elderberry were turning into tiny +globules of green. Mary asked the doctor if he thought the corn in the +field would ever straighten up again. A wind storm had passed over it +and many of the large stalks were almost flat upon the earth. The doctor +answered cheerfully that the sun would pull it up again if Aesop wasn't +a fraud. + +After a while they stopped at a big gate opening into a field. + +"Hold the reins, please, till I see if I can get the combination of that +gate," and the doctor got out. Mary took a rein in each hand as he +opened the gate. She clucked to the horse and he started. + +"Whoa! John, come and get my mite. It's about to slip out of my glove." +The doctor glanced at the coin Mary deposited in his palm. + +"They didn't lose much." + +"The universal collection coin, my dear. Now open the gate wider and +I'll drive through." + +"Don't hit the gate post!" She looked at him with disdain. "I never +drove through a gate in my life that somebody didn't yell, 'Don't hit +the gate post' and yet I never _have_ hit a gate post." + +At this retort the doctor had much ado to get the gate fastened and pull +himself into the buggy, and his laughter had hardly subsided before they +drew up to the large farm house in the field. Mary did not go in. In +about twenty minutes the doctor came out. The door-step turned, almost +causing him to fall. "Here's a fine chance for a broken bone and some of +you will get it if you don't fix this step," he growled. + +"I'll fix that tomorrow," said the farmer, "but I should think you'd be +the last one to complain about it, Doctor." + +"Some people seem to think that doctors and their wives are filled with +mercenary malice," said Mary laughing. "Yesterday I was walking along +with a lady when I stopped to remove a banana skin from the sidewalk. +She said she would think a doctor's wife wouldn't take the trouble to +remove banana skins from the walk." + +"I believe in preventive medicine," said the doctor, "and mending broken +steps and removing banana peeling belong to it." + +"Do you think it will ever be an established fact?" asked Mary as they +drove away. + +"I do indeed. It will be the medicine of the future." + +"I'm glad I'm not a woman of the future, then, for I really don't want +to starve to death." + +"I have to visit a patient a few miles farther on," said the doctor when +they came out on the highway. Soon they were driving across a knoll and +fields of tasseled corn lay before them. A little farther and they +entered the woods. "Ah, Mary, I would not worry about leaving church. +The groves were God's first temples." After a little he said, "I was +trying to think what Beecher said about trees--it was something like +this: 'Without doubt better trees there might be than even the most +noble and beautiful now. Perhaps God has in his thoughts much better +ones than he has ever planted on this globe. They are reserved for the +glorious land.'" + +"See this, John!" and Mary pointed to a group of trees they were +passing, "a ring cut around every one of them!" + +"Yes, the fool's idea of things is to go out and kill a tree by the +roadside--often standing where it can't possibly do any harm. How often +in my drives I have seen this and it always makes me mad." + +They drove for a while in silence, then Mary said, "Nature seems partial +to gold." She had been noting the Spanish needles and Black-eyed Susans +which starred the dusty roadside and filled the field on the left with +purest yellow, while golden-rod and wild sunflowers bloomed profusely on +all sides. + +"Yes, that seems to be the prevailing color in the wild-flowers of this +region." + +"That reminds me of something. A few months ago a little girl said to +me, 'Mrs. Blank, don't you think red is God's favorite color?' 'Why, +dear, I don't think I ever thought about it,' I answered, quite +surprised. 'Well, I think he likes _red_ better than any color.' 'Why I +don't know, but when we look around and see the grass and the trees and +the vines growing everywhere, it seems to me that _green_ might be his +favorite color. But what makes you think it is red?' 'Because he put +_blood_ into everybody in the world.' Quite staggered by this reasoning +and making an effort to keep from smiling, I said, 'But we can't see +that. If red is his favorite color why should he put it where it can't +be seen?' The child looked at me in amazement. '_God_ can see it. He can +see clear _through_ anybody.' The little reasoner had vanquished me and +I fled the field." + +A little way ahead lay a large snake stretched out across the road. + +"The boy that put it there couldn't help it," said the doctor, "it's +born in him. When I was a lad every snake I killed was promptly brought +to the road and stretched across it to scare the passers-by." + +"And yet I don't suppose it ever did scare anyone." + +"Occasionally a girl or woman uttered a shriek and I felt repaid. I +remember one big girl walking along barefooted; before she knew it she +had set her foot on the cold, slimy thing. The way she yelled and made +the dust fly filled my soul with a frenzy of delight. I rolled over and +over in the weeds by the roadside and yelled too." + +A sudden turn in the road brought the doctor and his wife face to face +with a young man and his sweetheart. Mary knew at a glance they were +sweethearts. They were emerging into the highway from a grassy +woods-road which led down to a little church. The young man was leading +two saddled horses. + +"Why do you suppose they walk instead of riding?" asked the doctor. + +"Hush! they'll hear you. Isn't she pretty?" + +The young man assisted his companion to her seat in the saddle. She +started off in one direction, while he sprang on his horse and galloped +away in the other. "Here! you rascal," the doctor called, as he passed, +"why didn't you go all the way with her?" + +"I'll go back tonight," the young fellow called back, dashing on at so +mad a pace that the broad rim of his hat stood straight up. + +"Do you know him?" + +"I know them both." + +After another mile our travelers went down one long hill and up another +and stopped at a house on the hilltop where lived the patient. Here, +too, Mary chose to remain in the buggy. A wagon had stopped before a big +gate opening into the barnyard and an old man in it was evidently +waiting for someone. He looked at Mary and she looked at him; but he did +not speak and just as she was about to say good morning, he turned and +looked in another direction. When he finally looked around it seemed to +Mary it would be a little awkward to bid him good morning now, so she +tried to think what to say instead, by way of friendly greeting; it +would be a little embarrassing to sit facing a human being for some time +with not a word to break the constraint. But the more she cudgeled her +brain the farther away flew every idea. She might ask him if he thought +we were going to have a good corn crop, but it was so evident that we +were, since the crop was already made that that remark seemed inane. The +silence was beginning to be oppressive. Her eye wandered over the yard +and she noticed some peach trees near the house with some of the +delicious fruit hanging from the boughs. She remarked pleasantly, "I see +they have some peaches here." Her companion looked at her and said, +"Hey?" + +"I said, 'I see they have some peaches here,'" she rejoined, raising her +voice. He curved one hand around his ear and said again, "Hey?" + +"O, good gracious," thought Mary, "I wish I had let him alone." + +She shrieked this time, "I only said, '_I see they have some peaches +here._'" + +When the old man said, "I didn't hear ye yet, mum," she leaned back in +the carriage, fanning herself vigorously, and gave it up. She had +screamed as loud as she intended to scream over so trivial a matter. +Looking toward the house she saw a tall young girl coming down the walk +with something in her hand. She came timidly through the little gate and +handed a plate of peaches up to the lady in the carriage, looking +somewhat frightened as she did so. "I didn't hear ye," she explained, +"but Jim came in and said you was a-wantin' some peaches." + +Mary's face was a study. Jim and his sister had not seen the deaf old +man in the wagon, as a low-branched pine stood between the wagon and the +house. And this was the way her politeness was interpreted! + +The comicality of the situation was too much. She laughed merrily and +explained things to the tall girl who seemed much relieved. + +"I ought to 'a' brought a knife, but I was in such a hurry I forgot it." +Eating peaches with the fuzz on was quite too much for Mary so she said, +"Thank you, but we'll be starting home in a moment, I'll not have time +to eat them. But I am very thirsty, might I have a glass of water?" The +girl went up the walk and disappeared into the house. Mary did so want +her to come out and draw the water, dripping and cool, from the old well +yonder. She came out, went to the well, stooped and filled the glass +from the bucket sitting inside the curb. Mary sighed. The tall girl took +a step. Then, to the watcher's delight, she threw the water out, pulled +the bucket up and emptied it into the trough, and one end of the +creaking well-sweep started downward while the other started upward. The +bucket was on its way to the cool depths and Mary grew thirstier every +second. + +The doctor appeared at the door and looked out. Then he came, case in +hand, with swift strides down the walk. The gate banged behind him and +he untied the horse in hot haste, looking savagely at his wife as he did +so. + +"I suppose you've asked that girl to bring you a drink." + +"Yes, I did. I'm very thirsty." + +"You ought to have more sense than to want to drink where people have +typhoid fever." + +The girl started down the walk with the brimming glass. The doctor +climbed into the buggy and turned around. + +"For pity's sake! what will she think?" + +A vigorous cut from the whip and the horse dashed off down the road. +Mary cast a longing, lingering look behind. The girl stood looking after +them with open mouth. + +"That girl has had enough today to astonish her out of a year's growth," +thought Mary as the buggy bumped against a projecting plank and tore +over the bridge at the foot of the hill. + +"John, one of the rules of good driving is never to drive fast down +hill." Her spouse answered never a word. + +After a little he said, "I didn't mean to be cross, Mary, but I didn't +want you to drink there." + +"You should have warned me beforehand, then," she said chillingly. + +"I couldn't sit in the buggy and _divine_ there was typhoid fever +there," she continued. "'A woman's intuitions are safe guides' but she +has to have _something_ to go on before she can _have_ intuitions." + +"Hadn't you better put your ulster on, dear?" inquired the doctor in +such meaning tones, that Mary turned quickly and looked off across the +fields. A Black-eyed Susan by the roadside caught the smile in her eyes +and nodded its yellow head and smiled mischievously back at her. It was +a feminine flower and they understood each other. + +When they had driven three or four miles Mary asked the doctor if there +was any typhoid fever in the house they were approaching. + +"How do I know?" + +"I thought you might be able to divine whether there is or not." + +"We'll suppose there isn't. We'll stop and get a drink," he answered +indulgently. They stopped, Mary took the reins and the doctor went to +reconnoiter. + +"Nobody at home and not a vessel of any kind in sight," he announced +coming back. Of course her thirst was now raging. + +"Maybe there's a gourd hanging inside the curb. If there is do break it +loose and bring it to me heaping full." + +"I looked inside the curb--nothing there." + +Here Mary's anxious eyes saw a glass fruit jar turned upside down on a +fence paling. Blessings on the woman who put it there! The doctor filled +and brought it to her. After a long draught she uttered a sigh of rich +content. + +"Now," she said, "I'm ready to go home." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Hello." + +"Is this the doctor?" + +"It's one of 'em," said John, recognizing the voice of a patient. + +"Well, doctor, the _other_ side of my throat is sore _now_!" + +"Is it? Well, I told your husband it might be." + +"Why?" + +"Why? Well, because I'm running short of coffee and a few things like +that." + +A little laugh. "_I_ don't want to keep you in coffee and things like +that." + +"Nobody does. But the poor doctors have to live and you must contribute +your share." Laughter. + +"All right, Doctor, but I don't want to have to contribute too much." + +"Don't be alarmed about your throat, Mrs. Channing. When I looked at it +yesterday, I saw indications that the other side might be affected, but +it will soon be well." + +"That sounds better. Thank you, good-bye." When he came back to the +table his wife said, "John, I shouldn't think you'd say things like that +to people." + +"Why?" + +"Well, they might believe 'em." The doctor laughed, swallowed his cup of +tea and departed. + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Three times. + +"Hello." + +"Is Dr. Blank at home?" + +"He has just this minute left for the office. 'Phone him there in two +minutes and you will get him." + +Mary went back, took two bites and when the third was suspended on her +fork the 'phone rang. + +"Somebody else," she thought, laying the fork down and rising. + +"Oh! I've got you again, Mrs. Blank. You said to ring in two minutes and +I'd get the doctor." + +"But you didn't wait _one_ minute." + +"It seemed lots longer. All right, I'll wait." + +"People expect a doctor to get there in less than no time," thought +Mary. "John walks so fast I felt safe in telling her to 'phone him in +two minutes." + +_Buzz-z-z-z-z_, as if all the machinery of the universe were let loose +in her ear. She had held the receiver till her husband could reach the +office so she might feel assured the anxious one had found him. Yes, +that was his voice. + +"Dr. Blank, you're president of the board of health, ain't ye?" + +"Yes--guess so." + +"This is Jack Johnson's. There's a dead horse down here by our house an' +I want you to come down here an' bury it." Our listener heard the +woman's teeth snap together. + +"All right. I'll get a spade and come right along." + +"What do they take my husband for," thought Mary. + +Buzz-z-z-z at her ear again. Now it was her husband's voice saying, + +"Give me number forty-five." + +In a minute a gentlemanly voice said, "Hello." + +"Is this you, Warner?" + +"Yes." + +"There's a dead horse down by Jack Johnson's. Go down there and bury +it." + +"All right, Doc. I'll be right along." + +A burst of laughter from the doctor was echoed by Warner. Mary knew that +Warner was the newly elected alderman and she smiled as she pictured the +new officer leaving his elegant home and going down to perform the +obsequies. Nevertheless her heart leaned toward Jack Johnson's wife, for +it was plain to be seen that neither the new president of the board of +health nor the new alderman had a realizing sense of his duties. + +Half an hour later three rings sounded. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's office?" + +"No, his residence." + +"Well, I see by the paper he's on the board of health and we want this +manure-pile taken away from here." + +"Please 'phone your complaints to the doctor," said Mary, calmly +replacing the receiver and shutting off the flood. + +"John's existence will be made miserable by this new honor thrust upon +him," she thought. + +When he came home that evening she asked if the second complainant had +found him. + +"Yes, she found me all right." + +"They're going to make day hideous and night lamented, aren't they?" + +"O, no. I'll just have a little fun and then send someone to look after +their complaints." + +Just before bed-time the doctor was called to the 'phone. + +"Doctor, this is the nurse at the hotel. What had I better do with this +Polish girl's hand?" + +"Doesn't it look all right?" + +"Yes, it's doing fine." + +"Just let it alone, then." + +"She won't be satisfied. She thinks we ought to be doing something to +it. And I've got to do something or she'll go off upstairs and wash it +in dirty water." + +"Tell her not to do anything of the kind." + +"She can't understand a word I say and I don't know what to do with her. +She's had the bandage off once already." + +"The devil she has! Well, then you'll have to unwrap it, I guess, and +pretend to do something. But it would be better to let it alone." + +"I know that." + +"How is the other patient tonight?" + +"Doing fine, Doctor." + +"Good! Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +There was a spacious, airy, upper chamber opening out on a balcony at +the doctor's house which the doctor and Mary claimed for theirs. Not +now; O no! But in the beautiful golden sometime when the telephone +ceased from troubling and the weary ones might rest. This meant when the +doctor should retire from night practice. Until that happy time they +occupied a smaller room on the first floor as it was near the telephone. +Mary had steadfastly refused to have the privacy of her upper rooms +invaded by the tyrant. + +One warm summer night when bed-time came she made the announcement that +she was going upstairs to sleep in the big room. + +"But what if I should be called out in the night?" asked her husband, +with protest in his voice. + +"Then I'd be safer up there than down here," said Mary, calmly. + +"But I mean you couldn't hear the 'phone." + +"That is a consummation devoutly to be wished." + +"Now don't go off up there," expostulated John. "You always hear it and +I sort of depend on you to get me awake." + +"Exactly. But it's a good thing for a man to depend on himself once in +awhile. I was awake so often last night that I'm too tired and sleepy to +argue. But I'm going. Good night." + +"Thunder!" + +"It doesn't ring _every_ night," said Mary, comfortingly from the +landing. "Let us retire in the fond belief that curfew will not ring +tonight." + +When she retired she fell at once into deep sleep. For two hours she +slept sweetly on. Then she was instantly aroused. The figure of a man +stood by her side. In the moonlight she saw him plainly, clad in black. +Her heart was coming up into her throat when a voice said, + +"Mary, I have to go two miles into the country." + +"Why didn't you call me, John, instead of standing there and scaring me +to death?" + +"I did call you but I couldn't get you awake." + +"Then you ought to have let me be. If a woman hasn't a right to a +night's sleep once in awhile what _is_ she entitled to?" + +This petulance was unusual with his wife. "Well, come on down now, +Mary," he said, kindly. + +"I'm not going down there this night." + +"But you can't hear the 'phone up here and I'm expecting a message any +minute that must be answered." + +"I'll--hear--that--'phone," said Mary. "I'll sleep with one ear and one +eye open." + +"Have it your own way," said the doctor as he started down the stairs. + +"I intend to. But when I tell you I'll watch the 'phone, John, you know +I'll do it." + +He was gone and she lay wide awake. It seemed very hard to be ruthlessly +pulled from a sleep so deep and delicious and so much needed. + +By and by her eye-lids began to feel heavy and her thoughts went +wandering into queer places. "This won't do," she said aloud, sitting up +in bed. Then she rose and went out on to the balcony. Seating herself in +an arm chair, she looked about her on the silvery loveliness. The +cricket's chirr and the occasional affirmations of the katy-did were the +only sounds she heard. "I didn't say you didn't. Don't be so spiteful +about it." + +The moon, shining through the branches of the big oak tree made +faintly-flickering shadows at her feet. The white hammock, stirring +occasionally as a breeze touched it, invited her. She went over to it +and lay for many minutes looking up, noting how fast the moon glided +from one branch of the tree to another. Now it neared the trunk. Now a +slice was cut off its western rim. Now it was only a half moon--"a +bweak-moon on the sky," as her little boy had called it. Now there was a +total eclipse. When it began peeping out on the other side of the trunk +our watcher's dreamful eyes took no note of it. A dog barked. She sprang +up and seated herself in the chair again. She dare not trust herself to +the hammock. It was too seductive and too delightful. So she sat erect +and waited for the ring which might not come but which must be watched +for just the same. Her promise had gone forth. Far up the street she +heard horses' hoofs--it must be John returning. The buggy-top shining in +the moonlight came into view. No, it was a white horse. Her vigil was +not yet ended. A quarter of an hour later she discerned a figure far +down the walk. She followed it with her eyes. It moved swiftly on. Would +it turn at the corner and come up toward their house? Yes, it was +turning. Then it turned into the yard. It was John. She went forward and +leaning over the railing called down to him, "A good chance to play +Romeo now, John." John only grunted--after the manner of husbands. + +"Nobody rang. I'm going to bed again. Good night--I mean good morning." + + * * * * * + +The next night was hotter than ever and Mary made up her mind she would +sleep up in the hammock. She had had a delicious taste of it which made +her wish for more. To avoid useless discussion she would wait till John +retired and was asleep, then she would quietly steal away. But when this +was accomplished and she had settled herself comfortably to sleep she +found herself wide awake. She closed her eyes and gently wooed slumber, +but it came not. Ah, now she knew! The night before she had shaken off +all responsibility for the 'phone. Therefore she could sleep. Tonight +her husband lay unconscious of her absence and the burden of it was upon +her shoulders again. Well, she must try to sleep anyway, this was too +good a chance to lose. She fell asleep. After awhile dinner was ready. +Mollie had rung the little bell for the boys. Now she was ringing it +again. Where can the boys have got to? Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Mary sat up in the hammock +and rubbed her eyes. + +"Oh!" she sprang out and rushed to the stairs. "Doctor!" + +"John!" The snores continued. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling! + +"Oh, dear!" gasped Mary, hurrying down as fast as her feet could take +her. Straight to the 'phone she went. It must be appeased first. + +"Hello?" + +"Hell-_o_! Where's the doctor?" + +"He is very fast asleep." + +"I've found that out. Can you get him awake?" Sharp impatience was in +the man's voice. + +"Hold the 'phone a minute, please, and I'll rouse him." + +She went into the bedroom and calling, "John! John!" shook him soundly +by the shoulders. He sat up in bed with a wild look. + +"Go to the 'phone, quick!" commanded Mary. + +"Eh?" + +"Go to the _'phone_. It's been ringing like fury. Hurry." + +At last he was there and his wife knew by his questions and answers that +he would be out for the rest of the night. She crept into bed. After he +was gone she would go upstairs. When he was dressed he came to the door +and peered in. + +"That's right, Mary," he said, with such hearty satisfaction in his +tones that she answered cheerfully, "All right--I'll stay this time." + +And when he was gone she turned her face from the moonlit window and +slept till morning, oblivious to the thieves and murderers that did not +come. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is the doctor there?" + +"He was called out awhile ago; will be back in perhaps twenty minutes." + +"This is Mr. Cowan. I only wanted to ask if my wife could have some +lemonade this morning. She is very thirsty and craves it--but I can call +again after awhile." + +How discouraging to the feverish, thirsty wife to have her husband come +back and tell her he would 'phone again after awhile. And if, after +waiting, he still failed to find the doctor? Mary knew the Cowans quite +well so she made bold to say, hastily, "I think the doctor would say +_yes_." + +"You think he would?" asked Mr. Cowan, hopefully. + +"I think he would, but don't let her have too much, of course." + +"All right. Thank you, Mrs. Blank." + +An uneasy feeling came into Mary's mind and would not depart as she went +about her work. Really, what right had she to prescribe for a sick woman +even so harmless a thing as lemonade. How did she know that it was +harmless. Perhaps in this case there was some combination of symptoms +which would make that very thing the thing the patient ought not to +have. + +In about fifteen minutes there came a ring--three. Mary started +guiltily. It sounded like the doctor's ring. Was he going to reprimand +her? But it was the voice of a friend and it surprised Mary with this +question: + +"Mrs. Blank, if you were me would you have your daughter operated upon?" + +"Operated upon for what?" + +"For appendicitis." + +"Nettie, let me tell you something: if I had no more sense than to give +you advice on such a question as that, I certainly hope you would have +more sense than to take it. Advice about a thing with no sort of +knowledge of that thing is as worthless as it is common." + +"Why--I thought since you are a doctor's wife you would know about it." + +"Can you draw up a legal will because you happen to be the wife of a +lawyer?" + +"No-o, but--" + +"But me no buts," quoth Mary. "We're even now." + +"Well, I've heard it said a doctor's wife knows even less than many +others about ills and their remedies because she is so used to depending +on her husband that she never has to think of them herself. I guess I'd +better talk to the doctor. I just thought I'd see what you said first. +Good-bye." + +"My skirts are clear of any advice in that direction," thought Mary, her +mind reverting again to the lemonade. + +"Nettie couldn't have 'phoned me at a more opportune minute to get the +right answer. But I wonder if John is back. I'll see." She rang. + +"Hello." + +"Say, John, Mr. Cowan 'phoned awhile ago, and his wife was very thirsty +and craved lemonade and--don't scold--I took the liberty of saying--it's +awful for a thirsty person to have to wait and wait you know--and so I +said I thought _you_ would say she might have it." + +"I hope you weren't this long about it," laughed her husband. + +"Then it was all right?" + +"Certainly." Much relieved Mary hung up the receiver. "What needless +apprehension assails us sometimes," she thought, as she went singing to +her broom. + +"Just the same, I won't prescribe very often." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +It was five o'clock in the morning when the doctor heard the call and +made his way to it. His wife was roused too and was a passive listener. + +"Yes." + +"Yes." + +"Down where? I don't understand you." + +"On what street?.... Down near Dyre's? I don't know any such family." +Here Mary called out, "Maybe they mean Dye's." + +"Dye's? Yes, I know where that is..... Galliver--that's the name is it? +Very well, Mrs. Galliver, I'll be down in a little while.... Yes, just +as soon as I can dress and get there." + +He proceeded to clothe himself very deliberately, but years of +repression had taught Mary resignation. + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Three rings. + +The doctor went with shoe in hand and again his wife was a listener. + +"Yes..... Yes..... I'm just getting ready to go to see a patient...... +It's a hurry call, is it? All right then, I'll come there first...... +Yes, right away." + +As he put up the receiver he said to his wife, "Somebody else was trying +to get me then, too, but couldn't make it." Mary thought it well he +couldn't since her husband was only one and indivisible. + +"But he will probably try again after a little," she thought, "and John +will be gone and I won't know just where to find him." + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. Collar in hand the doctor went. + +"Yes..... Who is this?.... Come where?.... Jackson street. Right next to +Wilson's mill?.... On which side? I say on which side of Wilson's +mill?.... West? All right, I'll be down there after awhile...... No, not +right away; I have to make two other visits first, but as soon as I can +get there." + +When at last he was dressed and his hand was on the door-knob the 'phone +called him back. + +"You say I needn't come..... Very well. I'll come if you want me to +though, Mrs. Galliver. I'm just starting now. I have to see another +patient first."-- + +"Why John," interposed Mary from the bedroom, "She called you first." + +"It will be about half an hour before I can get there..... All right, +I'll be there." + +Then Mary remembered that No. 2 was the hurry call and was silent. When +the doctor was gone she fell asleep but only for two minutes. + +She went to answer the call. "Has the doctor started yet?" + +"Yes, he is on his way." + +"All right then," and the relief in the tone was a pleasant thing to +hear. + +"Now, if I go to sleep again I can feel no security from No. 1 or No. 3 +or both." Nevertheless she did go to sleep and neither No. 1 nor No. 3 +called her out of it. + + * * * * * + +"I must be going," said Mary, rising from her chair in a neighbor's +house. + +"Have you something special on hand?" asked her neighbor. + +"Yes, it's clock-winding day at our house, for one thing." + +"Why, how many clocks do you have to wind?" inquired the little old lady +with mild surprise. + +"Only one, thank heaven!" ejaculated Mary as she departed. + +When she had sped across the yard and entered her own door she threw off +her shawl and made ready to wind the clock. First, she turned off the +gas in the grate so that her skirts would not catch fire. Second, she +brought a chair and set it on the hearth in front of the grate. Third, +she went into the next room and got the big unabridged dictionary, +brought it out and put it on the chair. Fourth, she went back and got +the oldest and thickest Family Bible and the fat Bible Dictionary, +brought them out and deposited them on the unabridged. Fifth, she +mounted the chair. Sixth, she mounted the volumes--which brought her up +to the height she was seeking to attain. Seventh, she wound the clock; +that is, she usually did. Today, when she had inserted the key and +turned it twice round--the 'phone rang. Oh, dear! Thank goodness it +stopped at two rings. She would take it for granted the doctor was in +the office. She wound on. Then she took the key out and inserted it on +the opposite side. A second peal. That settled it. If it were a lawyer's +or a merchant's or any other man's 'phone she could wind the other side +first--but the doctor's is in the imperative mood and the present tense. +She must descend. Slowly and cautiously she did so, went to the 'phone +and put the receiver to her ear. + +"Hello, is this Dr. Blank's office?" + +"This is his--" + +"Hello, what is it?" said her husband's voice. "Now why couldn't he have +come a minute sooner," thought Mary, provoked. + +"Doctor," said an agitated voice, "my little boy has swallowed a penny." + +"Was it a good one?" inquired the doctor, calmly. + +"Why--ye-es," said the voice, broken with a laugh, "guess it was." + +"Just let him alone. It will be all right after awhile." + +"It was worth getting down to hear so comforting an assurance," said +Mary as she ascended again the chair and the volumes. She finished her +weekly task, then slowly and cautiously descended, carried the big books +back to their places, set the chair in its corner and lighted the gas. +She stood for a moment looking up at this clock. The space over the +mantel-piece was just the place for it and it was only after it had been +firmly anchored to the wall that the thought had arisen, "How can I ever +get up there to wind it?" + +She smiled as she thought of a social gathering a few days before, when +a lady had called to her across the room, "Mrs. Blank, tell us that +clock story again." And she had answered: + +"It isn't much of a story, but it serves to show the manner in which we +computed the time. One night the doctor woke me up. 'Mary,' he said in a +helpless sort of way, 'It struck _seven_--what _time_ is it?' 'Well--let +me see,' I said. 'If it struck seven it meant to strike three, for it +strikes four ahead of time. And if it meant to strike three it's just a +quarter past two, for it's three quarters of an hour too fast.'" +Ting-a-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +Mary recognized her husband's ring. "Yes, what is it John?" + +"I'm going out for twenty minutes, watch the 'phone, please." + +She laughed in answer to this most superfluous request, then sat her +down near by. + + * * * * * + +"John, Mrs. B. said a pretty good thing last night." + +"That's good." + +"I've a notion not to tell you, now that the good thing was about you." + +"That's better still. But are good things about me so rare that you made +a note of it?" + +"I don't know but what they are," said Mary, reflectively. "There was +Mrs. C., you know, who said she didn't see how in the world Doc Blank's +wife ever lived with him--he was so mean." + +"I wonder about that myself, sometimes." + +"The way I manage it is to assert myself when it becomes necessary--and +it does. You're a physician to your patients but to me you're a mere +man." + +"I feel myself shrivelling. But how about Mrs. B.'s compliment?" + +"I was over at the church where a social program of some sort was being +given and 'between acts' everybody was moving about chatting. An elderly +woman near me asked, 'Mrs. Blank, do you know who the Hammell's are?' I +told her that I did not, and she went on, 'I see by the paper that a +member of their family died today, and I thought you, being a doctor's +wife, might know something about it.' + +"Mrs. B. spoke up promptly, 'Why, Mrs. Blank wouldn't know anything +about the _dead_ people--her husband gets 'em _well_.'" + +The doctor laughed, "And she believes it too," he said. + +"No doubt of it. So a compliment like that offsets one of Mrs. C.'s +kind." + +"O, no. The C.'s have it by a big majority. Don't you know I have the +reputation of being the meanest man in the county?" + +"No, I don't." + +"Well, I have. Do you remember that drive we took a week or two ago up +north?" + +"That long drive?" + +"Yes. When I went in the man who was a stranger to me, said, 'I'll tell +you why I sent for you. I've had two or three doctors out here, +recommended as _good_ doctors, and they haven't done me a darned bit of +good. Yesterday I heard you was the meanest doctor in this county and I +said to myself, "He's the man I want."'" + +"I heard you laughing and wondered what it was about. The man's wife +came out to the buggy and talked to me. She said they were strangers and +didn't know anything about the doctors around here--they had thought of +sending down to this town for a doctor but she had spoken to a woman--a +neighbor--and she had said there wasn't _any_ of 'em any account down +there. But her husband kept getting worse so they finally sent for Dr. +Blank and she hoped he'd cure 'im. Are you doing it? I hope so for I +assured her that the physicians of this town are recognized throughout +the State as being men of exceptional ability, and she went in, +comforted." + +"Yes, he got better as soon as he struck the road to health," laughed +John. He took out his watch. "Jove! I haven't any time to spare if I +catch that train." For several days he had been taking the train to a +little station some miles out of town, where he would get off and walk a +mile to the home of his patient, make his visit and walk back in time to +catch the train for home. + +Just after the doctor left the house the telephone rang twice. His wife +answered it, knowing he had not yet reached the office. + +"Is the doctor there?" + +"He left the house just a minute ago." + +"Well, he's coming down today isn't he?" + +"Is this Mrs. Shortridge?" + +"Yes." + +"Yes, he just said he must make that train." + +"He'll go to the office first won't he?" + +"Yes, to get his case, I think." + +"Will you please telephone him there to bring a roast with him?" + +"To bring what?" + +"A roast." + +Mary was nonplussed. Her husband had the reputation of "roasting" his +patients and their attendants on occasion. Had an occasion arisen now? + +"Why, ye-es," she began, uncertainly, when the voice spoke again. + +"I mean a roast of beef, Mrs. Blank. I thought as the doctor was coming +he wouldn't mind stopping at the butcher's and bringing me a roast--tell +him a good-sized one." + +The receiver clicked. Mary still held hers. Then she rang the office. + +"What _is_ it?" Great haste spoke in the voice. + +"John, Mrs. Shortridge wants you to bring her a roast of beef when you +go down." + +"The devil she does!" + +"The market is right on your way. Hurry. Don't miss the train!" She put +up the receiver, then she snatched it and rang again violently. + +"_Now_ what!" thundered John's voice. + +"She said to get a good-sized one." Standing with the receiver in her +hand and shaking with laughter she heard the office-door shut with a +bang and knew that he was off. + +She knew that if he had been going in the buggy he would have been glad +to do Mrs. S.'s bidding. He often carried ice and other needful things +to homes where he visited. Mary pictured her husband picking his way +along a muddy country road, his case in one hand and the "roast" in the +other, and thought within herself, "He'll be in a better mood for a +roast when he arrives than when he started." + + * * * * * + +Mary was out in the kitchen making jelly. At the critical moment when +the beaded bubbles were "winking at the brim" came the ring. She lifted +the kettle to one side, wiped her hands and went. + +"Is this you, Mary?" + +"Yes." + +"Watch the 'phone a little bit, please. I have to be out about half an +hour." + +"I'm always watching the 'phone, John, always, _always_!" + +She went back to her jelly. She put it back on the fire, an inert mass +with all the bubbles died out of it. Scarcely had she done so when the +'phone rang--two rings. Surely the doctor had not got beyond hearing +distance. He would answer. But perhaps he had--he was a very swift +walker. The only way to be sure of it was to go to the telephone and +listen. She went hastily back and as she put the receiver to her ear +there came a buzz against it which made her jump. + +"Hello," she said. + +"I wanted the doctor, Mrs. Blank, do you know where he is?" + +"He just 'phoned me that he--" an unmistakable sound arose from the +kitchen stove. The jelly was boiling over! Instinct is older than the +telephone. The receiver dangled in air while Mary rushed madly to the +rescue. "I might have known it," she said to herself, as she pushed the +kettle aside and rushed back to the 'phone. + +"I guess they cut us off," said the voice. + +"I was just saying," said Mary, "that the doctor 'phoned me a few +minutes ago he would be out for half an hour." + +"Will you please tell him when he comes in to call up 83?" + +The man goes on his way, relieved of further responsibility in the +matter. It will be a very easy thing for the doctor's wife to call up +her husband and give him the message. Let us see. + +When the jelly was done, and Mary had begun to fill the waiting glasses +she thought, "I'd better see if John is back. He may go out again before +I can deliver that message." So she set the kettle on the back of the +stove and went to ascertain if her husband had returned. No answer to +her ring. She had better ring again to be sure of it. No answer. She +went back to the kitchen. When the glasses were all filled and she had +held first one and then another up to get the sunlight through the clear +beautiful redness of them, she began setting them back to cool. The +telephone! She hurried in and rang again to see if John had got back. +Silence. She sighed and hung up the receiver. "I'd like to get it off my +mind." As she started toward the kitchen again the door-bell rang. She +went to open the door, and wonder of wonders--an old friend she had not +seen for years! + +"I am passing through town, Mary, and have just three quarters of an +hour till my train goes. Now sit down and _talk_." + +And the pair of them did talk, oblivious to everything about them. How +the minutes did fly and the questions too! The 'phone rang in the next +room--two rings. On Mary's accustomed ear it fell unheeded. She talked +on. Again two rings. She did not notice. + +"Isn't that your 'phone?" asked the visitor. + +"O, _yes_! You knocked it clean out of my head, Alice. Excuse me a +minute," and she vanished. + +"Did you give that message to the doctor?" + +"He is not back yet." + +"I saw him go into the office not ten minutes ago." + +"I have 'phoned twice and failed to find him." + +"I hoped when I saw him leave the office that he had started down to see +my little boy, but of course he hasn't if he didn't get the message." + +"I am sorry. An old friend I had not seen for years came in and of +course it went out of my mind for a few minutes, though I 'phoned twice +before she came. I am sure he will be back in a few minutes and I will +send him right down, Mr. Nelson." + +"Why do you do that?" asked her friend, pointedly as she came in. "Why +take upon yourself the responsibility of people's messages being +delivered." + +"It _is_ an awful responsibility. I don't know why I do it--so many +people seem to expect it as a matter of course--" + +"It's a great deal easier for each person to deliver his own message +than for you to have a half dozen on your mind at once. I wouldn't do +it. You'll be a raving lunatic by the next time I see you." + +"At least I'll have ample time in which to become one," laughed Mary. + +"I'm going," announced her friend, suddenly rising. "I could spare five +or ten minutes more but if I sit here you'll forget that 'phone again. +But take my advice, Mary, and institute a change in the order of +things." + +When she had gone Mary sat for a few minutes lost in thought. Then, +remembering, she sprang up and went to the 'phone. No answer to her +ring. "Dear me! Will I _never_ get that message delivered and off my +mind." Soon a ring came. + +"Isn't he back _yet_?" + +"I 'phoned about three minutes ago and failed to get him. By the way, +Mr. Nelson, will you just 'phone the doctor at the office, please? That +will be a more direct way to get him as I seem to fail altogether this +morning. I am sure that he can't be gone much longer," she said very +pleasantly and hung up the receiver. The responsibility had been +gracefully shifted and she was free for a while. Other occasions would +arise when she could not be free, but in cases of this kind her friend's +clear insight had helped her out. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Hello." + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"My husband has just started for your office. He says he's going to send +you down. I don't need a doctor. Will you tell him that?" + +"I'll tell him you _said_ so." + +"Well, I don't. So don't you come!" + +"All right. I haven't got time to be bothered with you anyway. The sick +people take my time." + +In a few minutes the 'phone rang again. + +"Dr. Blank, can you come over to the Woolson Hotel?" + +"Right away?" + +"Yes, if you can. There's a case here I've treated a little that I'm not +satisfied about." + +"All right, Doctor, I'll be there in a few minutes." + +When he reached the hotel and had examined the patient he said, "He has +smallpox." + +"I began to suspect that." + +"Not a bit of doubt of it." + +"The hotel is full of people--I'm afraid there'll be a panic." + +"We must get him out of here. We'll have to improvise a pest-house at +once. I'll go and see about it." + +That evening about an hour after supper the doctor's daughter came +hurriedly into the room where her mother was sitting. + +"Mother," she exclaimed, "there's an awful lot of people in the office, +a regular mob and they're as mad as fury." + +"What about?" exclaimed her mother, startled. + +"They're mad at father for putting the tent for a smallpox patient down +in their neighborhood." + +"Is he in the office now?" + +"He was there when I first went in but he isn't there just now. Father +wasn't a bit disturbed, but I am. I got out of there. The mayor went +into the office just as I came out." + +Uneasy, in spite of herself, Mary waited her husband's return. Ten +o'clock, and he had not come. She went to the 'phone and called the +office. The office man answered. + +"Where is the doctor?" + +"He was in here a few minutes ago, but there's a big fuss down at the +smallpox tent and I think he's gone down there." + +Mary rang off and with nervous haste called the mayor's residence. + +"Is this Mr. Felton?" + +"Yes." + +"This is Mrs. Blank. I am very uneasy about the doctor, Mr. Felton. I +hear he has just started down to the smallpox tent. Won't you please see +that someone goes down at once?" + +"Yes, Mrs. Blank. I came from there a little while ago but they're mad +at the doctor and I'll go right back. I'm not going to bed until I know +everything's quieted down." + +"And you'll take others with you?" she pleaded, but the mayor was gone. +Again she waited in great anxiety. The tent was too far away for her to +go out into the night in search of him. + +Between eleven and twelve o'clock she heard footsteps. She rose and went +to the door. Almost she expected to see her husband brought home on a +stretcher. But there he came, walking with buoyant step. When he came in +he kissed his anxious wife and then broke into a laugh. + +"My! how good that sounds! I heard of the mob and have been frightened +out of my wits." + +"They've quieted down now. There wasn't a bit of sense in what they +did." + +"Well, I don't know that one can really blame them for not wanting +smallpox brought into the neighborhood. Couldn't you have taken the tent +farther out?" + +"Yes, if we had had time. But we had a sick man on our hands--he had to +be got out of the hotel and he had to be taken care of right away. He +had to have a nurse. There must be water in the tent and the nurse can't +be running out of a pest-house to get it. Neither can anyone carry it to +such a place. So we couldn't put it beyond the water- and +gas-pipes--there must be heat, too, you know. We have done the very best +we could without more time. The nearest house is fifty yards away and +there's absolutely no danger if the people down there will just get +vaccinated and then keep away from the tent." + +"They surely will do that." + +"Some of them may. One fool said to me awhile ago when I told them that, +'Oh, yes! we see your game. You want to get a lot of money out of us.'" + +"What did you say to that ancient charge," asked Mary, smiling. + +"I said, 'My man, I'll pay for the virus, and I'll vaccinate everyone of +you, and everyone in that neighborhood and it won't cost you a cent'." + +"Did he look ashamed?" + +"I didn't wait to see. I had urgent business out just then." + +"Is the patient in the tent now?" + +"Yes, all snug and comfortable with a nurse to take care of him. That +was my urgent business. I went into the back room of the office in the +midst of their jabber, slipped out the door, got into the buggy hitched +back there, drove to the hotel and with Dr. Collins' help, got the +patient down the ladder waiting for us, into the buggy, then got the +nurse down the ladder and in, too, then away we drove lickety-cut for +the tent while the mob was away from there. Then I went back to the +office and attended the meeting," added the doctor, laughing heartily. + +His wife laughed too, but rather uneasily. "Were they still there when +you got back?" + +"Every mother's son of 'em. They didn't stay long though. I advised them +to go home, that the patient was in the tent and would stay there. They +broke for the tent--vowed they'd set fire to it with him in it and I +think they intended to hang _me_," and the doctor laughed again. + +"John, don't _ever_ get into such a scrape again. I 'phoned Mr. Felton +and begged him to go down there and take someone with him." + +"You did? Well, he came, and it happened there was a member of the State +Board of Health in town who had got on to the racket. He came, too, and +you ought to have heard him read the riot act to those fellows: + +"'We've got a sick man here--a stranger, far from his home. You are in +no danger whatever. Every doctor in town has told you so. We're going to +take care of this man _and don't you forget it_. We have the whole State +of Illinois behind us, and if this damned foolishness don't stop right +here, I'll have the militia here in a few hours' time and arrest every +one of you.' That quieted them. They slunk off home and won't bother us +any more." + + * * * * * + +Three or four days after the above conversation Mary stood at the window +looking out at the storm which was raging. The wind was blowing +fearfully and the rain coming down in torrents. "I do hope John will not +be called to the country today," she thought. + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling--three rings. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's office?" asked a feminine voice. + +"No, his residence." + +"Mrs. Blank, this is the nurse at the smallpox tent. Will you 'phone the +office and tell the doctor it's raining in down here terribly. I'm in a +hurry, must spread things over the patient." + +"Very well, I'll 'phone him," and she rang twice. No reply. Again. No +reply. "Too bad he isn't in. I'll have to wait a few minutes." + +In five minutes she rang again, but got no reply. In another minute she +was called to the 'phone. + +"Didn't you get word to the doctor, Mrs. Blank?" asked a voice, full of +anxiety. "I'm afraid we'll drown before he gets here." + +"I have been anxiously watching for him, but he must be visiting a +patient. Hold the 'phone please till I ring again." This time her +husband answered. + +"Doctor, here's the nurse at the tent to speak to you." She waited to +hear what he would say. + +"Doctor, please come down here and help us. The roof is leaking awfully +and we are about to drown." + +"All right, I'll be down after a little." + +"Don't wait too long." + +Mary's practised ear caught something beginning with a capital D as the +receiver clicked. + +"Poor old John," she murmured, "it's awful--the things you have to do." + +The doctor got into his rubber coat and set out for his improvised +pest-house. + +When he came home Mary asked, "Did you stop the leak?" + +"I did. But I had a devil of a time doing it." + +"I'm curious to know how you would go about it." + +"The roof was double and I had to straighten out and stretch the upper +canvas with the wind blowing it out of my hands and nobody to help me +hold it." + +"Was there nobody in sight?" + +"That infernal coward of a watchman, but I couldn't get him near the +tent--he's _had_ smallpox, too." + +"I should think the nurse could have helped a little, that is if she +knew where to take hold of it, and what to do with it when she got +hold." + +"O, she sputtered around some and imagined she was helping." + +"Poor thing," said Mary, laughing, "I know just how bewildered she was +with you storming commands at her which she couldn't understand--women +can't." + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +The doctor helloed gruffly. + +"Is this you, Doc?" + +"Looks like it." + +"We want ye to come down here an' diagnosis these cases." + +"_What_ cases!" + +"There's two down here." + +"Down _where_?" + +"Down here at my house." + +"Well, who the devil _are_ you?" + +"Bill Masters. We're afraid maybe it's smallpox." + +"Yes, _yes_!" snarled the doctor, "every _pimple_ around here for the +next three months will be smallpox." + +"Well, we want ye to diagnosis it, Doc." + +"All right. I'll 'diagnosis' it the first time I'm down that way--maybe +this evening or tomorrow," and he slammed the receiver up and went to +bed. + + * * * * * + +One evening the doctor was waiting for the stork at a farmhouse some +miles from home. He concluded to telephone his wife as it might be +several hours before he got in. He rang and put the receiver to his ear: + +"Did you put your washin' out today?" + +"No, did you?" + +"No, I thought it looked too rainy." + +"So did I. I hope it'll clear up by mornin'." + +"Have you got your baby to sleep yet?" + +"Land! yes. He goes to sleep right after supper." + +"Mine's not that kind of a kid. He's wider awake than any of us this +minute." + +"Got your dress cut out?" + +"No, maybe I'll git around to it tomorrow afternoon, if I don't have +forty other things to do." + +"Did ye hear about--" + +Seeing no chance to get in the doctor retreated. Half an hour later he +rang again. A giggle and a loud girlish voice in his ear asking, "Is +this you, Nettie?" + +"This is me." + +"Do you know who this is?" + +"Course I do." + +"Bet ye don't." + +"Bet I do." + +"Who?" + +"It's Mollie, of course." + +"You've guessed it. I tried to change my voice so you wouldn't know me." + +"What fer?" + +"Oh, cat-fur to make kitten breeches." + +Mild laughter. + +"I heard that you gave Jake the mitten last night." + +"Who told ye?" + +"Oh, a little bird." + +"Say! Who _did_ tell ye?" + +"You'll never, never tell if I do?" + +The clock near the patiently waiting doctor struck nine quick short +strokes. + +"Did you hear that?" asked the first voice, startled. + +"Whose clock _is_ that?" + +"Johnson's haven't got one like that." + +"Miller's haven't neither." + +"I'll tell you--it's Gray's--their clock strikes quick like that." + +"Then there's somebody at their 'phone listenin'!" + +"Goodness! Maybe it's Jake, just like him!" + +"Jake Gray, if that's you, you're a mean eavesdroppin' sneak an' that's +what I think of _you_! Good-bye, Nettie." And as the receiver slammed +into its place the doctor shook with laughter. + +"This seems to be my opportunity," he thought, then rang and delivered +the message to his wife. Often these dialogues kept him from hearing or +delivering some important message and then he fumed inwardly, but +tonight he had time to spare and to laugh. + + * * * * * + +After a little the 'phone rang. "It's someone wanting you, Doctor," said +the man of the house who answered it. The doctor went. + +"Is this you, Doctor Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"I want you--" + +The doctor heard no more. This was a party line and every receiver on it +came down. A dozen people were listening to find out who wanted the +doctor and what for. All on the line knew that Doctor Blank had been at +the Gray farmhouse for hours. The message being private, there was +silence. The doctor waited a minute then his wrath burst forth. + +"Damn it! Hang up your receivers, all you eavesdroppers, so I can get +this message!" + +Click, click, click, click, and lots of people mad, but the doctor got +the message. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this Mrs. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"I telephoned the office and couldn't get the doctor so I'll tell you +what I wanted and you can tell him. His patient down here in the +country, Mrs. Miller, is out of powders and she wants him to send some +down by Mrs. Richards, if he can find her." + +"Where is Mrs. Richards?" + +"She's up there in town somewhere." + +"Does she know that the powders are to be sent by her and will she call +at the office?" + +"No, I don't think she knows anything about it. Mrs. Miller didn't know +she was out till after she left. That's all," and she was gone. + +"All!" echoed Mary. + +In a few minutes when she thought her husband had had time to return she +went to the 'phone and told him he must go out and hunt up Mrs. +Richards. + +"What for?" + +"Because Mrs. Miller wants you to find her and send some powders down by +her." + +An explosion came and Mary retired laughing and marvelling to what +strange uses telephones--and doctors--are put. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +It was a lovely morning in late September. The sun almost shone through +the film of light gray clouds which lay serenely over all the heavens. +There was a golden gleam in the atmosphere, + + "And a tender touch upon everything + As if Autumn remembered the days of Spring." + +The doctor and his wife were keenly alive to the beauty of the day. +After they had driven several miles they stopped before a little brown +house. The doctor said he would like Mary to go in and she followed him +into the low-ceiled room. + +"Here, you youngsters, go out into the yard," said the mother of the +children. "There ain't room to turn around when you all get in." They +went. A baby seven or eight months old sat on the floor and stared up at +Mary as she seated herself near it. Two women of the neighborhood sat +solemnly near by. The doctor approached the bed on which a young woman +of eighteen or twenty years was lying. + +"My heart hain't beat for five minutes," she said. + +"Is that so?" said the doctor, quite calm in the face of an announcement +so startling. "Well, we'll have to start it up again." + +"That's the first time she has spoke since yesterday morning," said one +of the solemn women in a low tone to the doctor. + +"It didn't hurt her to keep still. She could have spoken if she had +wanted to." The two women looked at each other. "No, she couldn't speak, +Doctor," said one of them. + +"Oh, yes she could," replied the doctor with great nonchalance. + +"I _couldn't_!" said the patient with much vigor. This was just what he +wanted. He examined her carefully but said not a word. + +"How long do you think I'll live?" she asked after a little. + +"Well, that's a hard question to answer--but you ought to be good for +forty or fifty years yet." + +The patient sniffed contemptuously. "Huh, I guess you don't know it all +if you _are_ a doctor." + +"I know enough to know there's mighty little the matter with _you_." He +turned to one of the women. "I would like to see her mother," he said. +The mother had left the room on an errand; the woman rose and went out. +There was a pause which Mary broke by asking the baby's name. + +"We think we'll call her Orient." + +"Why not Occident?" thought Mary, but she kept still. Not so the doctor. +"_That's_ no name. Give her a good sensible _name_--one she won't be +ashamed of when she's a woman." + +Here Mary caught sight of a red string around the baby's neck, and asked +if it was a charm of some sort. The mother took hold of the string and +drew up the charm. "It's a blind hog's tooth," she said simply, "to make +her cut her teeth easy." + +The mother of the patient came into the room. "How do you think she is, +Doctor?" + +"Oh, she's not so sick as you thought she was, not near." + +The mother looked relieved. "She had an awful bad spell last night. Do +you think she won't have any more?" + +"No, she won't have any more." The look on the patient's face said +plainly, "We'll see about that." It did not escape the doctor. + +"But in case you should see any signs of a spell coming on, and if she +gets so she can't speak again, then you must--but come into the next +room," he said in a low voice. + +They went into an adjoining room, the doctor taking care to leave the +door ajar. Then in a voice ostensibly low enough that the patient might +not hear and yet so distinct that she could hear every word, he +delivered his instructions: "Now, if she has any more spells she must be +blistered all the way from her neck down to the end of her spine." The +mother looked terrified. "And if she gets so she can't speak again, it +will be necessary to put a seton through the back of her neck." + +"What _is_ a seton?" faltered the woman. + +"Oh, it's nothing but a big needle six or eight inches long, threaded +with coarse cord. It must be drawn through the flesh and left there for +a while." Then in a tone so low that only the mother could hear, he +said, "Don't pay much attention to her. She'll never have those spells +unless there is somebody around to see her." + +He walked into the other room and took up his hat and case. + +"I left some powders on the table," he said to the mother. "You may give +her one just before dinner and another tonight." + +"Will it make any difference if she doesn't take it till tonight?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Pa's gone and I didn't 'low to git any dinner today." + +At this announcement Mary heard something between a sigh and a groan and +turning, saw a rosy-cheeked boy in the doorway. There was a look of +resigned despair on his face and Mary smiled sympathetically at him as +she went out. How many lads and lassies could have sympathized with him +too, having been victims to that widespread feeling among housewives +that when "Pa" is gone no dinner need be got and sometimes not much +supper. + +As the doctor and his wife started down the walk they heard a voice say, +"Ma, don't you ever send for that smart-aleck doctor agin. I won't +_have_ him." The doctor shook with laughter as he untied the horse. + +"They won't need to send for me 'agin.' I like to get hold of a fine +case of hysterics once in a while--it makes things lively." + +"The treatment you prescribed was certainly heroic enough," said Mary. + +They had driven about a mile, when, in passing a house a young man +signaled the doctor to stop. "Mother has been bleeding at the nose a +good deal," he said, coming down to the gate. "I wish you would stop and +see her. She'll be glad to see you, too, Mrs. Blank." + +They were met at the door by a little old woman in a rather short dress +and in rather large ear-rings. Her husband, two grown daughters and +three children sat and stood in the room. + +"So you've been bleeding at the nose, Mrs. Haig?" said the doctor, +looking at his patient who now sat down. + +"Yes, sir, and it's a-gittin' me down. I've been in bed part of the +day." + +"It's been bleedin' off and on for two days and nights," said the +husband. + +"Did you try pretty hard to stop it?" + +"Yes, sir, I tried everything I ever heerd tell of, and everything the +neighbors wanted me to try, but it didn't do no good." + +"Open the door and sit here where I can have a good light to examine +your nose by," the doctor said to the patient. She brought her chair and +the young man opened the door. As he did so there was a mad rush between +the old man and his two daughters for the door opposite. + +"Shet that door, quick!" the old man shouted, and it was instantly done. +Mary looked around with frightened eyes. Had some wild beast escaped +from a passing menagerie and was it coming in to devour the household? +There was a swirl of ashes and sparks from the big fireplace. + +"This is the blamedest house that ever was built," said Mr. Haig. + +"Who built it?" queried the doctor. + +"I built it myself and like a derned fool went an' put the fireplace +right between these two outside doors, so if you open one an' the other +happens to be open the fire and ashes just flies." + +The doctor took an instrument from his pocket and proceeded with his +examination. + +"But there's a house back here on the hill about a mile that beats +this," said the old man. + +"That is a queer-looking house," said Mary. "It has no front door at +all." + +"No side door, neither. When a feller wants to get in _that_ house +there's just one of three ways: he has to go around and through the +kitchen, or through a winder, or down the chimney." + +"If he was little enough he might go through the cat-hole," suggested +the young man, at which they all laughed. + +"And what may that be?" asked the mystified Mary. + +"It's a square hole cut in the bottom of the door for the cat to go in +and out at. The man that owns the place said he believed in having +things handy." + +"Now, let me see your throat," said the doctor. The patient opened her +mouth to such an amazing extent that the doctor said, "No, I will stand +on the outside!" which made Mary ashamed of him, but the old couple +laughed heartily. They had known this doctor a good many years. + +"What have you been doing to stop the bleeding?" he asked. + +"I've been a-tryin' charms and conjurin', mostly." + +Mary saw that there was no smile on her face or on any other face in the +room. She spoke in a sincere and matter-of-fact way. "Old Uncle Peter, +down here a piece, has cured many a case of nose-bleed but he hain't +'peared to help mine." + +"How does he go about it?" asked Mary. + +"W'y, don't you know nothin' 'bout conjurin'?" + +"Nothing at all." + +"I thought you bein' a doctor's wife would know things like that." + +"I don't believe my husband practises conjuring much." + +"Well, Uncle Peter takes the Bible, and opens it, and says some words +over it, and pretty soon the bleedin' stops." + +"Which stops it, the Bible or the words?" + +"W'y--both I reckon, but the words does the most of it. They're the +charm and nobody knows 'em but him." + +"Where did he learn them?" + +"His father was a conjurer and when he died he tol' the words to Uncle +Peter an' give the power to him." + +"Did he come up here to conjure you?" asked the doctor. + +"No, he says he can do it just as well at home." + +"He can. But I think we can stop the bleeding without bothering Uncle +Peter any more. I'd like a pair of scissors," he said, meaning to cut +some papers for powders. + +"They won't do no good. I've tried 'em." + +"What do you think I want with them?" + +"I 'lowed you wanted to put 'em under the piller. That'll cure +nose-bleed lots of times. Maybe you don't believe it, but it's so." + +"Can Uncle Peter cure other things?" asked Mary. + +"He can _that_. My nephew had the chills last year and shook and shook. +At last he went to Uncle Peter an' he cured _him_." + +"He shot 'em," said Mr. Haig. + +"Yes, he told him to take sixteen shot every mornin' for sixteen days +and by the time he got through he didn't shake a bit." + +"By jings! he was so heavy he couldn't," said Mr. Haig, and in the laugh +that followed the doctor and his wife rose to go. A neighboring woman +with a baby in her arms had come in and seated herself near the door. As +he passed out the doctor stopped to inquire, "How's that sore breast? +You haven't been back again." + +"It's about well. William found a mole at last and when I put the skin +of it on my breast it cured it. I knowed it would, but when we wanted a +mole there wasn't none to be found, so I had to go and see _you_ about +it." + +"I thought it would soon be well. Good for the mole-skin," laughed the +doctor, as they took their leave. + +When they had started homeward they looked at each other, the doctor +with a smile in his eyes--he had encountered this sort of thing so often +in his professional life that he was quite accustomed to it. But Mary's +brown eyes were serious. "John," she said, "when will the reign of +ignorance and superstition end?" + +"When Time shall be no more, my dear." + +"So it seems. Those people, while lacking education, seem to be fairly +intelligent and yet their lives are dominated by things like these." + +"Yes, and not only people of fair intelligence but of fair education +too. While they would laugh at what we saw and heard back there they are +holding fast to things equally senseless and ridiculous. Then there are +thoroughly educated and cultured people holding fast to little +superstitions which had their birth in ignorance away back in the past +somewhere. How many people do you know who want to see the new moon over +the left shoulder? And didn't I hear you commanding Jack just the other +day to take the hoe right out of the house and to go out the same door +he came in?" + +"O, ye-es, but then _nobody_ wants to have a _hoe_ carried through the +house, John. It's such a bad sign--" + +The doctor laughed. "This thing is so widespread there seems to be no +hope of eliminating it entirely though I believe physicians are doing +more than anybody else toward crushing it out." + +"Can they reason and argue people out of these things?" + +"Not often. Good-natured ridicule is an effective shaft and one I like +to turn upon them sometimes. They get so they don't want to say those +things to me, and so perhaps they get to see after a while that it is +just as well not to say them too often to other people, too." + +"Don't drive so fast, John, the day is too glorious." + +Yellow butterflies flitted hither and thither down the road; the corn in +the fields was turning brown and out from among it peeped here and there +a pumpkin; the trees in apple orchards were bending low with their rosy +and golden treasures. They passed a pool of water and saw reflected +there the purple asters blooming above it. By and by the doctor turned +down a grassy road leading up to a farmhouse a short distance away. "Are +you to make another call today?" asked his wife. + +"Yes, there is a very sick child here." + +When he had gone inside three or four children came out. A curly-headed +little girl edged close and looked up into Mary's face. + +"Miss' Blank, _you_ know where Mr. Blank got our baby, _don't_ you?" + +Mary, smiling down at the little questioner, said, "The doctor didn't +tell me anything about it." The little faces looked surprised and +disappointed. + +"We thought you'd know an' we come out to ask you," said another little +girl. "You make all the babies' dresses, don't you?" + +"Dear me, no indeed!" laughed the doctor's wife. + +"Does he keep all the babies at your house?" asked the little boy. + +"I think not. I never see them there." + +"Didn't he ever bring any to your house?" + +"Oh, yes, five of them." + +"I'd watch and see where he _gets_ 'em," said the little fellow stoutly. +"Jimmie Brown said Mr. Blank found their baby down in the woods in an +old holler log." + +The doctor came out, and the little boy looking up at him asked, "Is +they any more babies down in the woods?" + +"Yes, yes, 'the woods is full of 'em,'" laughed the doctor as he drove +off leaving the little group quite unsatisfied. + +When they had gone some distance two wagons appeared on the brow of the +hill in front of them. "Hold on, Doctor," shouted the first driver, as +the doctor was driving rapidly by, "I want to sell you a watermelon." + +"Will you take your pay in pills?" + +"Don't b'lieve I have any use for pills." + +"Don't want one then, I'm broke this morning," and he passed the second +wagon and pulled his horse into the road again. + +"Wait a minute! _I'll_ trade you a melon for some pills," called the +driver. He spread the reins over the dashboard and clambered down; the +man in front looked back at him with a grin. "I've got two kinds here, +the Cyclone and the Monarch, which would you rather have?" + +"Oh, I don't care," said the doctor. + +"Let us have a Monarch, please," said Mary. Monarch was a prettier name +than Cyclone, and besides there was no sense in giving so violent a name +to so peaceful a thing as a watermelon. So the Monarch was brought and +deposited in the back of the buggy. + +The doctor opened his case. "Take your choice." + +"What do you call this kind?" + +"I call that kind Little Devils." + +"How many of 'em would a feller dare take at once?" + +"Well, I wouldn't take more than three unless you have a lawyer handy to +make your will." + +"Why, will they hurt me?" + +"They'll bring the answer if you take enough of 'em." + +The man eyed the pills dubiously,--"I believe I'll let that kind alone. +What kind is this?" + +"These are podophyllin pills." + +"Gee, the _name's_ enough to kill a feller." + +"Well, Morning-Glories is a good name. If you take too many you'll be +wafted straight to glory in the morning, and the road will be a little +rough in places." + +"Confound it, Jake," called the first driver, "don't you take _none_ of +'em. Don't monkey with 'em." But Jake had agreed to trade a melon for +pills. He held out his big hand. "Pour me out some of them Little +Devils. I'll risk 'em." + +The doctor emptied the small bottle into Jake's hand, replaced it in the +case and drove off. + +"John, why in the world didn't you give him some instructions as to how +to take them?" asked Mary, energetically. + +"He didn't ask me to prescribe for him, my dear. He wanted to trade a +watermelon for pills and we traded." + +"For pity's sake," said Mary indignantly, "and you're going to let that +man kill himself while you strain at a point of professional etiquette!" +She was gazing back at the unfortunate man. + +"Don't you worry, he'll be too much afraid of them to hurt himself with +them," said the doctor, laughing. + +"I sincerely hope he will." + +As they came in sight of home the doctor, who had been silent for some +time, sighed heavily. "I am thinking of that little child out there. I +tell you, Mary, a case of meningitis makes a man feel his limitations." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +A long, importunate peal. The doctor rose and went swiftly. Mary +listened with interest to what was to come: + +"?" + +"Yes." + +"?" + +"Yes." + +"?" + +"Yes." + +"?" + +"Yes." + +"?" + +"Yes." + +He rang off. + +"That was decided in the affirmative," said Mary. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Doctor, do you think the baby will cut any more teeth this summer?" + +"You'd better ring up Solomon and ask that." + +"Well--if he gets through teething--don't you think he'll be all right?" + +"If he gets through with the way you _feed_ him he'll be all right." + +"Well, his teething has lots to do with it." + +"No, it don't--not a darned bit. If you'll take care of his stomach his +teeth will take care of themselves. It's what goes _between_ the teeth +that does the mischief. I keep telling people that every day, and once +in a while I find someone with sense enough to believe it. But a lot of +'em know too much--then the baby has to pay for it." + +"Well, I'll be awful careful, Doctor." + +"All right then. And stick right to the baby through the hot months. Let +me hear from it. Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling--three times. Mary rose and went. An agitated +voice said, "Come and see the baby!" and was gone. "She is terribly +frightened," thought Mary, as she rang central. + +"Some one rang Dr. Blank. Can you find out who it was?" + +"I'm afraid not." + +"Will you please try?" + +"Yes, but people ought to do their own talking and not bother us so +much." + +"I know," said Mary gently, "but this is a mother badly frightened about +her baby--she did not think what she was doing and left the 'phone +without giving me her name." + +Central tried with such good result that Mary was soon in possession of +the name and number. She telephoned that she would send the doctor down +as soon as she could find him, which she thought would be in a few +minutes. Then she telephoned a house where he had been for several days +making evening visits. + +"Is Dr. Blank there?" + +"He _was_ here. He's just gone." + +"Is he too far away for you to call him?" + +"Run and see, Tommy." + +Silence. Then, "Yes, he's got too far to hear. I'm sorry." + +"Very well. Thank you." + +"Let me see," she meditated, "yes, I think he goes there." + +She got the house. "Is Dr. Blank there?" + +"He's just coming through the gate." + +"Please ask him to come to the 'phone." After a minute his voice asked +what was wanted and Mary delivered her message. + +When her husband came home that night, she said, "John, there's one more +place you're to go and you're to be there at nine o'clock." + +"The deuce!" he looked at his watch, "ten minutes to nine now. Where is +it?" + +"I don't know." + +"Don't know?" + +"No. I haven't the slightest idea." + +"Why didn't you find out," he asked, sharply. Mary arched her brows. +"Suppose _you_ find out." + +John rang central. With twinkling eyes his wife listened. + +"Hello, central. Who was calling Dr. Blank a while ago?" + +"A good many people call, Dr. Blank. I really cannot say." + +The voice was icily regular, splendidly null. It nettled the doctor. + +"Suppose you try to find out." + +"People who need a doctor ought to be as much interested as we are. I +don't know who it was." And the receiver went up. + +"Damned impudence!" said the doctor, slamming up his receiver and facing +about. + +"Wait, John. That girl has had to run down the woman with the sick baby. +She didn't give _her_ name either. Central had lots of trouble in +finding her. It's small wonder she rebelled when I came at her the +second time. So all I could do was to deliver the message just as it +came, 'Tell the doctor to come down to our house and to be here at nine +o'clock.'" + +"Consultation, I suppose. They'll ring again pretty soon, I dare say, +and want to know why I don't hurry up." + +But nothing further was heard from the message or the messenger that +night or ever after. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +Can we move Henry out into the yard? It's so hot inside. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +Can we move Jennie into the house? It gets pretty cold along toward +morning. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +Doctor, you know those pink tablets you left? I forget just how you said +to take 'em. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +The baby's throwing up like everything. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +Johnny's swallowed a nickel!.... You say it won't?.... And not give him +anything at all? Well, I needn't have been so scared, then. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +The baby pulled the cat's tail and she scratched her in the face. I'm +afraid she's put her eye out..... No, the _baby's_ eye. I'm afraid she +can't see..... No, she's not crying. She's going to sleep..... Well, I +guess she _can't_ see very well with her eyes shut..... Then you won't +come down?.... All right, Doctor, you know best. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this the doctor?" + +"Yes." + +"The baby has a cold and I rubbed her chest with vaseline and greased +her nose. Is that all right?" + +"All right." + +"And I am going to make her some onion syrup, if I can remember how it's +made. How do you make it?" + +"Why--O, _you_ remember how to make it." + +The truth is the doctor was not profoundly learned in some of the "home +remedies" and was more helpless than the little mother herself, which +she did not suspect. + +"You slice the onions and put sugar on them, don't you?" + +"Yes, that'll be all right," he said, hastily putting up the receiver. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Doctor, when you come down, bring something for my fever--" + +"Yes, I will!" + +"And for my nervousness--" + +"Yes, yes." The doctor turned quickly from the 'phone, but it rang +again. + +"And for my back, Doctor--" + +"Yes. _Yes!_" He put the receiver up with a bang and seizing his hat +rushed away before there should be any more. + + * * * * * + +Three rings. + +"Is this Dr. Blank's?" + +"Yes." + +"Is he there?" + +"No, but I expect him very soon." + +"When he comes will you tell him to come out to Frank Tiller's?" + +"Does he know where that is?" + +"He was here once." + +"Lately?" + +"No, some time ago." + +"Please tell me what street you live on, so the doctor will know where +to go." Mary heard a consultation of a minute. + +"It's on Oak street." + +"East Oak or West?" Another consultation. + +"North." + +"Very well. I'll tell the doctor as soon as he comes." + +"Tell him to come as quick as he possibly can." + +Five minutes later the office ring came. Mary went obediently lest her +husband might not be in. She heard the same voice ask, "Is this you, +Doctor?" + +"Yes." + +"We want you to come out to Frank Tiller's as quick as you possibly +can." + +"Where is that?" + +"_You've_ been here." + +"_Where do you live?_" + +"We live on Oak street." + +"East or West?" + +"North." + +"That street runs east and west!" + +"Ma, he says the street runs east and west." + +"Well, maybe it does. I've not got my directions here yet--then it must +be west." + +"It's on West Oak street, Doctor." + +The doctor was not quite able to locate the place yet. + +"Is it the house where the girl had the sore throat?" + +"Ma, he says, is it the place where the girl had the sore throat?" + +"It's just in front of that house." + +"She says it's just in front of that house and come just as quick as you +possibly can." + +"What does she mean by 'in front of it'?" + +"Why, it's just across the street, and come just as quick as you +possibly--" + +"Yes. I'll _run_." + +Mary smiled, but she was glad to hear her husband add a little more +pleasantly, "I'll be out there after a little." + +When he came home he said, laughing, "That girl up there took the +medicine I gave her and pounded the bottle to flinders before my eyes." + +"What for?" + +"O, she was mad." + +"What did you do then?" + +"Reached down in my pocket and took out another one just like it and +told them to give it according to directions." + +"Nothing like being prepared." + +"I knew pretty well what I was up against before I went. The old +complaint," said John, drawing on his slippers as he spoke. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Mary had been down the street, shopping. "I'll drop in and visit with +John a few minutes," she thought, as she drew near the office. When she +entered her husband was at the telephone with his back toward her. + +"Hello. What is it?" + +"Shake up your 'phone, I can't hear a word you're saying." + +"Who?" + +"Oh, yes, _I_ know." Exasperation was in every letter of every word. + +"Take one every six months and let me hear from you when they're all +gone." Slam! "There's always _some_ damned thing," he muttered, and +turning faced his wife. + +"A surprising prescription, John. What does it mean?" + +"It means that she's one of these everlasting complainers and that I'm +tired of hearing her. She's been to Chicago and St. Louis and +Cincinnati. She's had three or four laparotomies and every time she +comes back to me with a longer story and a worse one. They've got about +everything but her appendix and they'll get that if she don't watch +out." + +"Why, I thought they always got that the first thing." + +"You have no idea how it tires a man to have people come to him and +complain, complain, _complain_. The story is ever new to them but it +gets mighty old to the doctor. Then they go away to the city and some +surgeon with a great name does what may seem to him to be best. +Sometimes they come back improved, sometimes not, and sometimes they +come back worse than when they went. In all probability the operator +never sees the patient again and so the last chapters of the story must +be told to the home doctor over and over again." + +Mary gave a little sigh. The doctor went on: + +"In many cases it isn't treatment of any kind that is needed. It is +occupation--occupation for the mind and for the hands. Something that +will make people forget themselves in their work or in their play." + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this you, Doctor?" + +"Yes." + +"I wanted to see if you were at the office. I'll be over there right +away." + +In a few minutes the door opened and a gentleman about thirty-five years +of age entered. His manner was greatly agitated and he did not notice +Mrs. Blank at the window near the corner of the room. + +"Good morning, Mr. Blake," said the doctor, shaking hands with him, +"back again, are you?" + +Mr. Blake had been to C--, his native city. He had not been well for +some time and had evinced a desire to go back and consult his old +physician there, in which Dr. Blank had heartily concurred. + +"How long do you think I can live?" Mr. Blake asked now. + +"What do you mean?" replied the doctor, regarding him closely. + +"I want to know how much time I have. I want to get my business fixed up +before--" + +"Blake, you couldn't die if you wanted to. You're not a sick enough man +for that." + +The patient took a letter from his pocket and handed it in silence to +the doctor. The latter took it, looked carefully at the superscription, +read it slowly through, then folded it with cool deliberation and put it +back into the envelope. + +"I thought you were going to your old physician," he said. + +"Dr. Kenton was out of the city so I went to the great specialist." + +"Did he tell you what was in this letter he sent to me?" + +"No, but the letter was not sealed and I read it. I was so anxious to +know his opinion that I couldn't help it. Tuberculosis of the larynx--" +his voice faltered. + +"Yes," said the doctor, calmly, "that is a thing a man may well be +frightened about. But listen to me, Blake. You've not got tuberculosis +of the larynx." + +"Do you think a great physician like Dr. Wentworth doesn't know what he +is talking about?" + +"Dr. Wentworth is a great physician; I know him well. But he is only a +man like the rest of us and therefore liable to err in judgment +sometimes. He knew you half an hour, perhaps, before he pronounced upon +your case. I have known you and watched you for fifteen years. I say you +have not got tuberculosis _and I know I am right_." + +Mary saw Mr. Blake grasp her husband's hand with a look in his face that +made her think within herself, "Blessings on the country doctor wherever +he may be, who has experience and knowledge and wisdom enough to draw +just and true conclusions of his own and bravely state them when +occasion demands." + +When the patient had gone Mary said to her husband, "One gets a +kaleidoscopic view of life in a doctor's office. What comes through the +ear at home comes before the eye here. The kaleidoscope turned a +bright-colored bit into the place of a dark one this time, John. I am +glad I was here to see." + +As she spoke footsteps were heard on the stairs. Slow and feeble steps +they were, but at last they reached the landing and paused at the open +door. Looking out Mary saw a poorly clad woman perhaps forty years of +age, carrying in her hands a speckled hen. She was pale and trembling +violently, and sank down exhausted into the chair the doctor set for +her. He took the hen from her hands and set it on the floor. Its feet +were securely tied and it made no effort to escape. The doctor had never +seen the woman before but noting the emaciated form and the hectic flush +on the cheek he saw that consumption was fast doing its work. Mary took +the palm leaf fan lying on the table and stood beside her, fanning her +gently. + +When the woman could speak she said, "I oughtn't to 'a' tried to walk, +Doctor, but there didn't seem to be anyone passin' an' this cough is +killin' me. I want something for it." + +"How far did you walk?" asked Mary, kindly. + +"Four mile." + +"Four miles!" she looked down at the trembling form with deep pity in +her brown eyes. + +"I didn't have any money, Doctor, but will the hen pay for the +medicine?" her eyes were raised anxiously to his face and Mary's eyes +met the look in the eyes of her husband. + +"I don't want the hen. We haven't any place to keep her. Besides my +wife, here, is afraid of hens." A little smile flitted across the wan +face. + +He told her how to take the medicine and then said, "Whenever you need +any more let me know and I'll send it to you. You needn't worry about +the pay." + +"I'm very much obleeged to you, Doctor." + +"Just take the hen back home with you." + +"I wonder if I couldn't sell her at the store," she said, looking at the +doctor with a bright, expectant face. + +"Wait here and rest awhile and then we'll see about it. I'll go down and +perhaps I can find some one in town from out your way that you can ride +home with. Where do you live?" She told him and he went down the stairs. +In a little while he came back. + +"One of your neighbors is down here now waiting for you. He's just +starting home," he said. He took the hen and as they started down the +stairs Mary came out and joined them. At the foot of the stairway he +said to the grocer standing in front of his establishment, "Here, +Keller, I want you to give me a dollar for this hen." + +"She ain't worth it." + +"She _is_ worth it," said the doctor so emphatically that Keller put his +hand in his pocket and handed out the dollar. The poor woman did not see +the half dollar that passed from the doctor's hand to the grocer's, but +Mary saw and was glad. + +The doctor laid the dollar in the trembling palm, helped the feeble +woman into the wagon and they drove off. + +Mary turned to her husband and said with a little break in her voice, +"I'm going home, John. I want to get away from your kaleidoscope." + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"And I must go for another peep into it. Good-bye. Come again." + + * * * * * + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"This is Jim Sampson, Doctor, out at Sampson's mill. My boy fell out of +a tree a while ago and broke his leg, and I'm sort o' worried about it." + +"It don't have to _stay_ broke, you know." + +"That's just the point. I'm afraid it will--for a while at least." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, my wife says she won't have it set unless the signs are right for +setting a broken bone. She's great on the almanac signs." + +"The devil! You have that bone _set_--_today_! Do you understand?" + +"Yes, but Mary's awful set in her way." + +"I'm a darned sight more set. That boy's not going to lie there and +suffer because of a fool whim of his mother's. Where is she? Send her to +the 'phone and I'll talk to _her_." + +"She couldn't find her almanac and ran across to the neighbor's to get +one." + +"Call me when she gets back." + +Ten minutes passed and the call came. + +"It's all right, Doctor, the signs says so." + +A note of humor but of unmistakable relief vibrated in the voice. + +"Come right out." + +"All right, Jim, I'll be out as soon as I make my round here in town. +Tell your wife to have that almanac handy. I may learn something from +it." + +An hour or two later he was starting out to get into the buggy, with +splints and other needful things when the 'phone called him back. +Hastily cramming them under the seat he went. + +"Hello." + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"This is Millie Hastings. Do you remember me?" + +"No-o--I don't believe I do." + +"You doctored me." + +"Yes, I've 'doctored' several people." + +"I had typhoid fever two years ago up in the country at my uncle's." + +"What's your uncle's name?" + +"Henry Peters." + +"Yes, I remember now." + +"I wanted to find out what my bill is." + +"Wait here a moment till I look at the book." + +In a minute he had found it: Millie Hastings--so many visits at such and +such a date, amounting to thirty-six dollars. He went back to the +'phone. + +"Do you make your money by working by the week?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Have you learned how to save it?" + +"Yes, sir, I had to. I have to help mother." + +"Your bill is eighteen dollars." + +He heard a little gasp, then a delighted voice said: "I was afraid it +would be a good deal more. And now Dr. Blank, I want to ask a favor of +you." + +"Ask away." + +"I brought four dollars to town with me today to pay on my bill, but I +want a rocking chair _so_ bad--I'm over here at the furniture store +now--and there's such a nice one here that just costs four dollars and I +thought maybe you'd wait a----" + +"_Certainly_ I will. Get the rocking chair by all means," and he laughed +heartily as he went out to the buggy. He climbed in and drove away, the +smile still lingering on his face. At the outskirts of the town a tall +girl hailed him from the sidewalk. He stopped. + +"I was just going to your office to get my medicine," she said. + +"I left it with the man there. He'll give it to you." + +"Must I take it just like the other?" + +"Yes. Laugh some, though, just before you take it." + +"Why?" + +"Because you won't feel like it afterward." + +The girl looked after him as he drove on. + +"He's laughing," she said to herself and a grin overspread her face as +she pursued her leisurely way. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling!!! + +"Must be something unusual," thought Mary as the doctor went to the +'phone. + +"Doctor, is this you?" + +"Yes." + +"Come out to John Lansing's quick!" + +"What's the matter?" + +"My wife swallowed poison. Hurry, Doctor, for God's sake!" + +In a few minutes the doctor was on his horse (the roads being too bad +for a buggy) and was off. We will follow him as he plunges along through +the darkness. + +Because of the mud the horse's progress was so slow that the doctor +pulled him to one side, urged him on to the board walk, much against his +inclination, and went clattering on at such a pace that the doors began +to fly open on both sides of the street and heads, turned wonderingly +after the fleeting horseman, were framed in rectangles of light. + +"What _is_ the matter out there?" The angle of the heads said it so +plainly that the doctor laughed within himself as he thundered on. Now +it chanced that one of the heads belonged to a Meddlesome Matty who, +next day, stirred the matter up, and that evening two officers of the +law presented themselves at Dr. Blank's office and arrested him. + +"I don't care anything about the fine. All I wanted was to get there," +he said, handing out the three dollars. + +After the horse left the board walk the road became more solid and in +about ten minutes the doctor arrived at his destination. Before he could +knock the door was opened. The patient sat reclining in a chair, +motionless, rigid, her eyes closed. + +"What has she taken?" asked the doctor of the woman's husband. + +"Laudanum." + +"How much?" + +"She told me she took this bottle full," and he held up a two ounce +bottle. + +"I think she's lying," thought the doctor as he laid his fingers upon +her pulse. Then he raised the lids and looked carefully at the pupils of +the eyes. "Not much contraction here," he thought. Turning to the +husband who stood pale and trembling beside him, he said, + +"Don't be alarmed--she's in no more danger than you are." He watched the +patient's face as he spoke and saw what he expected--a faint facial +movement. + +"To be on the safe side we'll treat the case as if she had taken two +ounces." He gave her a hypodermic emetic then called for warm water. + +"How much?" asked the husband. + +"O, a half gallon will do." + +A big fat woman came panting through the doorway. "I got here as quick +as I could," she gasped. + +"We don't need you at all," said the doctor quietly. "Better go back +home to your children, Mrs. Johnson." + +Mrs. Johnson, not liking to be cheated out of a sensation which she +dearly loved, stood still. Mr. Lansing came back with the warm water. A +faint slit appeared under the eyelids of the patient. The doctor took +the big cup and said abruptly, "Here! drink this!" + +No response. "Mrs. Lansing!" he said so sharply that her eyes opened. +"Drink this water." + +"I ca-an't," she murmured feebly. + +"Yes, you can." + +"I won't," the voice was getting stronger. + +"You will." + +"You'll see." + +"Yes, I'll see." + +He held the big vessel to her mouth. When the water began to pour down +her neck she sprang to her feet fighting it off. He held the cup in his +left hand while with his right he reached around her neck and took her +firmly by the nose. Then he held the cup against her mouth and when it +opened for breath he poured the life-saving fluid forcefully down. Great +gulps of it were swallowed while a wide sheet of water poured down her +neck and over her night-dress to the floor. + +"That was very well done. Better sit down now." + +The husband stood in awed silence. The fat woman shook her fist at the +doctor's back which he beheld, nothing daunted, in the looking-glass on +the wall. The patient herself sat down in absolute quiet. In a minute +she began retching and vomited some of the water. The doctor inspected +it carefully. Then he went to his overcoat on a chair, felt in the +pocket and drew out a coil of something. It looked like red rubber and +was about half an inch in diameter. He slowly unwound it. It was five or +six feet in length. A subdued voice asked, + +"What are you going to do now, Doctor?" + +"I am going to turn on the hose." + +"Wha-a-t?" + +"I am going to put this tube down into your stomach. You haven't thrown +up much of that laudanum yet." + +She opened her mouth to speak and the doctor inserted one end of the +tube and began ramming it down. "Unfasten a button or two here," he said +to her husband and rammed some more. She gagged and gurgled and tried to +push his hands away. + +"Hold on, we're not down yet--we're only about to the third button." He +began ramming the tube again when she looked up at her husband so +imploringly that he said, "Hold on a minute, Doctor, she wants to say +something." The doctor withdrew the tube and waited. + +"I'm sure I threw it all up." + +"Oh no," he said beginning to lift it again. + +"I--only--took--two--or three drops." + +"Why the devil didn't you say so at the start?" + +"I wish I had. I just told _Jim_ that." + +"To get even with him for something," announced the doctor quietly. + +"How can he know so much," mused Jim's wife. + +"Now I advise you not to try this game again," said the doctor as he +wound up the stomach tube and put it into his pocket. "You can't fool +Jim all the time, and you can't fool me any of the time. Good night." +And he rode home and found Mary asleep in her chair. + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this you, Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"I wanted to ask you about an electric vibrator." + +"About what?" + +"An electric vibrator." + +"An electric something--I didn't get the last word." + +A little laugh, then "v-i-b-r-a-t-o-r." + +"Oh! vibrator." + +"Yes. Do you think it would help my aunt?" + +"Not a durned bit." + +Another little laugh, "You don't think it would?" + +"No!" + +"I had a letter today from my cousin and she said she knew a lady who +had had a stroke and this vibrator helped her more than anything." + +"It didn't. She imagined it." + +"Well, I didn't know anything about it and I knew you would, so I +thought I'd 'phone you before going any further. Much obliged, Doctor." + +It would save much time and money and disappointment if all those who +don't know would pause to put a question or two to those who do. But so +it is _not_, and the maker of worthless devices and the concocter of +nostrums galore cometh oft to fortune by leaps and bounds, while the +poor, conscientious physician who sticks to the truth of things, +arriveth betimes at starvation's gate. + +(I was startled a few days ago to learn that the average income of +physicians in the United States does not exceed six hundred dollars.) + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Tell papa he's wanted at the 'phone," said Mary. + +"Where is he?" + +"Isn't he there in the dining room?" + +"No, he isn't here." + +"He must be in the kitchen then; go to the door and call him." + +The small boy obeyed. "He's not out here either," he announced from the +door-way. + +"Why, where can he be!" cried Mary, springing up and going swiftly to +the 'phone. "Hello." + +"Is the doctor there?" + +"Yes. Wait just a minute and I will call him." + +She hurried through the dining room, then through the kitchen and out +into the yard. No doctor to be seen. "He passed through the house not +three minutes ago," she said to herself. + +"John!" + +"Doctor!" + +"Doc-_tor_!" + +"O, dear! I don't see how he could disappear from the face of the earth +in three minutes' time!" + +She hurried around a projecting corner through a little gate and called +again. + +"What is it?" asked a placid voice as its owner emerged from his new +auto garage. + +"Hurry to the 'phone for pity's sake!" and he hurried. Mary, following, +all out of breath, heard this: + +"Two teaspoonfuls." Then the doctor hung up the receiver. He turned to +Mary and laughed as he quoted Emerson on the mountain and the mouse. + +"I chased you all over the place this afternoon, John, when the 'phone +was calling you, and couldn't find you at all. Some people have days to +'appear' but this seems to be your day to disappear. Where were you +then?" + +"Out in the garage." + +"Fascinating spot! I'll know where to look next time. Now come to +supper." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +It was October--the carnival time of the year, + + When on the ground red apples lie + In piles like jewels shining, + And redder still on old stone walls + Are leaves of woodbine twining. + + When comrades seek sweet country haunts, + By twos and twos together, + And count like misers, hour by hour, + October's bright blue weather. + +On a lovely afternoon our travelers were driving leisurely along through +partially cleared woodland. The doctor had proposed that they take this +trip in the new automobile. But Mary had declined with great firmness. + +"I will not be hurled along the road in October of all months. What +fools these mortals be," she went on. "Last year while driving slowly +through the glorious Austrian Tyrol fairly holding my breath with +delight, one machine after another whizzed by, the occupants fancying +they were 'doing' the Tyrol, I dare say." + +Mary looked about her, drinking in deep draughts of the delicious air. +The beautifully-tinted leaves upon every tree and bush, the blue haze in +the distance and the dreamful melancholy over all, were delightful to +her. The fragrance of wild grapes came to them as they emerged from the +woods and Mary said, "Couldn't you wait a minute, John, until I go back +and find them? I'll bring you some." + +"If you were sick and had sent for a doctor would you like to have him +fool around gathering grapes and everything else on his way?" + +"No, I wouldn't. I really wouldn't." + +They laughed as they sped along the open country road, skirted on either +side by a rail fence. From a fence corner here and there arose tall +sumac, like candelabra bearing aloft their burning tapers. The poke-weed +flung out its royal purple banners while golden-rod and asters were +blooming everywhere. Suddenly Mary exclaimed, "I'm going to get out of +the buggy this minute." + +"What for?" + +"To gather those brown bunches of hazelnuts." + +"Mary, I positively will not wait for you." + +"John, I positively don't want you to wait for me," said Mary, putting +her foot on the step, "I'm going to stay here and gather nuts till you +come back. See how many there are?" and she sprang lightly to the +ground. + +"It will be an hour or more before I can get back. I've got to take up +that pesky artery." + +"It won't seem long. You know I like to be alone." + +"Good-bye, then," and the doctor started off. + +"Wait! John," his wife called after him. "I haven't a thing to put the +nuts in, please throw me the laprobe." The doctor crushed the robe into +a sort of bundle and threw it to her. + +She spread the robe upon the ground and began plucking the bunches. Her +fingers flew nimbly over the bushes and soon she had a pile of the brown +treasures. Dear old times came trooping back. She thought of far-off +autumn days when she had taken her little wagon and gone out to the +hazel bushes growing near her father's house, and filled it to the top +and tramped it down and filled it yet again. Then a gray October day +came back when three or four girls and boys, all busy in the bushes, +talked in awed tones of the great fire--Chicago was burning up! Big, big +Chicago, which they had never seen or dreamed of seeing--all because a +cow kicked over a lamp. + +Mary moved to another clump of bushes. As she worked she thought if she +had never known the joy of gathering nuts and wild grapes and +persimmons, of wandering through woods and meadows, her childhood would +have lost much that is beautiful and best, and her womanhood many of its +dearest recollections. + +"You're the doctor's wife, ain't ye?" + +Mary looked around quite startled. A tall woman in a blue calico dress +and a brown gingham sunbonnet was standing there. "I didn't want to +scare ye, I guess you didn't see me comin'." + +"I didn't know you were coming--yes, I am the doctor's wife." + +"We saw ye from the house and supposed he'd gone on to see old man +Benning and that you had stopped to pick nuts." + +"You guessed it exactly," said Mary with a smile. + +"We live about a quarter mile back from the road so I didn't see the +doctor in time to stop him." + +"Is some one sick at your house, then?" + +"Well, my man ain't a doin' right, somehow. He's been ailin' for some +time and his left foot and leg is a turnin' blue. I come to see if you +could tell me somethin' I could do for it. I'm afraid it's mortifyin'." + +Mary's brown eyes opened wide. "Why, my dear woman, I couldn't tell you +anything to do. I don't know anything at all about such things." + +"I supposed bein' a doctor's wife you'd learnt everything like that." + +"I have learned many things by being a doctor's wife, very many things, +but what to do with a leg and foot that are mortifying I really could +not tell you." Mary turned her face away to hide a laugh that was +getting near the surface. "I will have the doctor drive up to the house +when he gets back if you wish," she said, turning to her companion. + +"Maybe that would be best. Your husband cured me once when I thought +nothing would ever get me well again. I think more of him than any other +man in the world." + +"Thank you. So do I." + +She started off and Mary went on gathering nuts, her face breaking into +smiles at the queer errand and the restorative power imputed to herself. +"If it is as serious as she thinks, all the doctors in the world can't +do much for it, much less one meek and humble doctor's wife. But they +could amputate, I suppose, and I'm sure I couldn't, not in a scientific +way." + +Thus soliloquizing, she went from clump to clump of the low bushes till +they were bereft of their fruitage. She looked down well-pleased at the +robe with the nuts piled upon it. She drew the corners up and tied her +bundle securely. This done she looked down the road where the doctor had +disappeared. "I'll just walk on and meet him," she thought. She went +leisurely along, stopping now and then to pluck a spray of goldenrod. +When she had gathered quite a bunch she looked at it closely. "You are +like some people in this world--you have a pretty name and at a little +distance _you_ are pretty: but seen too close you are a disappointment, +and more than that you are coarse. I don't want you," and she flung them +away. She saw dust rising far down the road and hoped it might be the +doctor. Yes, it was he, and Bucephalus seemed to know that he was +traveling toward home. When her husband came up and she was seated +beside him, she said, "You are wanted at that little house over yonder," +and she told him what had taken place in the hazel bushes. "You're +second choice though, they came for me first," she said laughing. + +"I wish to thunder you'd gone. They owe me a lot now they'll never pay." + +"At any rate, they hold you in very high esteem, John." + +"Oh, yes, but esteem butters no bread." + +"Well, you'll go, won't you? I told the woman you would." + +"Yes, I'll go." + +He turned into a narrow lane and in a few minutes they were at the gate. +The doctor handed the reins to Mary and went inside. A girl fourteen or +fifteen years old with a bald-headed baby on her arm came out of the +house and down the path. + +"Won't you come in?" + +"No, thank you. We will be going home in a minute." + +The girl set the baby on the gate-post. "She's the smartest baby I ever +saw," she said. "She's got a whole mouthful of teeth already." + +"And how old is she?" + +"She was ten months old three weeks ago last Saturday." + +As today was Thursday, Mary was on the point of saying, "She will be +eleven months old in a few days then," but checked herself--she +understood. It would detract from the baby's smartness to give her +eleven months instead of only ten in which to accomplish such wonders in +the way of teeth. The doctor came out and they started. Just before they +came out to the main road they passed an old deserted house. No signs of +life were about it except the very luxuriant life in the tall jimsons +and ragweeds growing about it and reaching almost to the top of the low +doorway, yawning blackly behind them. + +"I think the longest night of my life was spent in that house about +sixteen years ago. It's the only house I was ever in where there was +nothing at all to read. There wasn't even an almanac." + +Mary laughed. "An almanac is a great deal better than nothing, my dear. +I found that out once upon a time when I had to stay in a house for +several hours where there was just one almanac and not another printed +page. I read the jokes two or three times till they began to pall and +then set to work on the signs. I'll always have a regard for them +because they gave me a lift through those tedious hours." + +They were not far from the western edge of the piece of woodland they +were traversing and all about them was the soft red light of the setting +sun. They could see the sun himself away off through the straight and +solemn trunks of the trees. A mile farther on Mary uttered a sudden +exclamation of delight. + +"See that lovely bittersweet!" + +"I see, but don't ask me to stop and get you some." + +"I won't, but I'll ask you to stop and let _me_ get some." + +"I wouldn't bother about it. You'll have to scramble over that ditch and +up the bank--" + +"I've scrambled over worse things in my life," she said, springing from +the buggy and picking her way down the intervening ditch. The bright red +berries in their flaring yellow hoods were beautiful. She began breaking +off the branches. When she had gathered a large bunch and was turning +toward the buggy she saw a vehicle containing two women approaching from +the opposite direction. There was a ditch on either side of the road +which, being narrow at this point, made passing a delicate piece of +work. The doctor drew his horse to one side so that the wheels of the +buggy rested on the very brink and waited for them to pass; he saw that +there was room with perhaps a foot or two to spare. + +On came the travelers and--the front wheels of the two vehicles were +locked in a close embrace. For a minute the doctor did some vigorous +thinking and then he climbed out of the buggy. It was a trying position. +He could not say all of the things he wanted to--it would not be polite; +neither did he want to act as if it were nothing because Mary might not +understand the extent of the mischief she had caused and how much out of +humor he was with her. It would be easier if she were only out of +hearing instead of looking at him across the ditch with apologetic eyes. + +The doctor's horse began to move uneasily but the other stood perfectly +still. + +"He's used to this sort of thing, perhaps," said the doctor with as +little sarcasm as possible. + +"Yes, we have run into a good many buggies and things," said one of the +women, cheerfully. + +"Women beat the devil when it comes to driving," thought the doctor +within himself. "They'll drive right over you and never seem to think +they ought to give part of the road. And they do it everywhere, not only +where there are ditches." He restrained his speech, backed the offending +vehicle and started the travelers on. While he was doing so his own +steed started on and he had a lively run to catch him. + +Mary had thought of turning back to break off another spray of the +bittersweet but John's profanity was rising to heaven. Diplomacy +required her to get to the buggy and into it at once. This she did and +the doctor plunged in after her. + +"Forgive me for keeping you waiting," she said gently. She held the +bittersweet out before her. "Isn't it lovely, John?" + +A soft observation turneth away wrath. The doctor's was oozing away +sooner than he wished. + +They drove on for a while in silence. The soft, still landscape dotted +here and there with farm houses and with graceful elm and willow trees, +was lit up and glorified by the after-glow. The evening sky arching +serenely over a quiet world, how beautiful it was! And as Mary's eyes +caught a glittering point of light in the blue vault above them, she +sang softly to herself: + + "O, thou sublime, sweet evening star, + Joyful I greet thee from afar." + +For a while she watched the stars as one by one they twinkled into view, +then drawing her wraps more closely about her, she leaned back in the +carriage and gave herself up to pleasant reflection, and before she +realized it the lights of home were twinkling cheerily ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +"You are not going out tonight, John, no matter how often the 'phone +rings. I positively will not let you." Mary spoke with strong emphasis. +All the night before he had been up and today had been a hard day for +him. She had seldom seen him so utterly weary as he was tonight. He had +come home earlier than usual and now sat before the fire, his head sunk +on his breast, half asleep. + +"Go right to bed, dear, then you can really rest." + +The doctor, too tired to offer any resistance, rose and went to the +bedroom. In a few minutes his wife heard regular sonorous sounds from +the bed. (When she spoke of these sounds to John, Mary pronounced it +without the first _o_.) + +Glad that he had so soon fallen into deep sleep she settled back in her +chair. "I'll protect him tonight," she thought, "though fiery darts be +hurled." + +She thought of many things. The fire-light gleamed red upon the hearth. +All was still. The sounds from the adjoining room had ceased. Something +stirred within her and she rose and went softly to the bedside of her +sleeping husband. In the half-light she could see the strong, good face. +Dear John so profane yet so patient, so severe yet so tender, what would +it be to face life without him. She laid her hand very lightly on the +hand which lay on the counterpane, then took it away lest it disturb the +sleeper. She went back to her chair and opening a little volume took +from it a folded sheet. Twice before today had she read the words +written within it. A dear friend whose husband had recently died had +written her, inclosing them. She read them again now: + + IN MEMORIAM,--A PRAYER. + + "O God! The Father of the spirits of all flesh, in whatsoever world + or condition they be,--I beseech Thee for him whose name, and + dwelling place, and every need Thou knowest. Lord, vouchsafe him + peace and light, rest and refreshment, joy and consolation in + Paradise, in the ample folds of Thy great love. Grant that his life, + so troubled here, may unfold itself in Thy sight, and find + employment in the spacious fields of Eternity.--If he hath ever been + hurt or maimed by any unhappy word or deed of mine, I pray Thee, of + Thy great pity, to heal and restore him, that he may serve Thee + without hindrance. + + "Tell him, O gracious Father, if it may be,--how much I love him and + miss him, and long to see him again; and if there may be ways in + which he may come, vouchsafe him to me as guide and guard, and grant + me such sense of his nearness as Thy laws permit. If in aught I can + minister to his peace, be pleased of Thy love to let this be; and + mercifully keep me from every act which may deprive me of the sight + of him, as soon as our trial time is over, or mar the fullness of + our joy when the end of the days hath come." + +Mary brushed away a tear from her cheek. "This letter has awakened +unusual thoughts. I will--" + +A sharp peal from the telephone. + +"What is it?" + +"Is the doctor at home?" + +"Yes. He has gone to bed and is fast asleep." + +"Oh! We wanted him to come down to see my sister." + +"He was up all last night and is not able to come--" + +"Can I just talk to him about her?" + +Mary sighed. To rouse him from his sorely needed sleep was too cruel. +Then she spoke. "I must not disturb him unless it is absolutely +necessary. I shall be sitting here awake--call me again in a little +while if you think it necessary." + +"A--l--l r--i--g--h--t--" and a sob came distinctly to the listener's +ear. + +This was too much for Mary. "I'll call him," she said hurriedly and went +to the bedroom. + +With much difficulty she roused him. He threw back the covers, got up +and stumbled to the 'phone. + +"Hello..... Yes..... They didn't? Is she suffering much?.... All right, +I'll be down in a little bit." + +Mary groaned aloud. She had vowed to protect him though fiery darts be +hurled. But the sob in the voice of a frightened young girl was more +potent than any fiery dart could have been and had melted her at once. +Slowly but surely the doctor got himself into his clothes. + +"I don't think there's any use of my going down there again, but I +suppose I'll have it to do." When he returned an hour later, he said, +"Just as I thought--they were badly scared over nothing. I shouldn't +wonder if they'd rout me out again before morning." + +"No, they won't," said Mary to herself, and when her husband was safe in +bed again, she walked quietly to the telephone, took down the receiver +and _left_ it down. "Extreme cases require extreme measures," she +thought as she, too, prepared for her night's rest. But there was a +haunting feeling in her mind about the receiver hanging there. Suppose +some one who really did need the doctor should call and call in vain. +She would not think of it. She turned over and fell asleep and they both +slept till morning and rose refreshed for another day. + + * * * * * + +A few weeks later circumstances much like those narrated above arose, +and the doctor's wife for the second and last time left the receiver +down. About two o'clock there came a tragic pounding at the door and +when the doctor went to open it a voice asked, "What's the matter down +here?" + +"Why?" + +"Central's been ringing you to beat the band and couldn't get you +awake." + +"Strange we didn't hear. What's wanted?" He had recognized the messenger +as the night clerk at the hotel not far from his home. + +"A man hurt at the railroad--they're afraid he'll bleed to death. +Central called me and asked me to run over here and rouse you." + +When the doctor was gone Mary rose tremblingly and hung up the receiver. +She would not tell John what she had done. He would be angry. She had +felt that the end justified the means--that he was tired out and half +sick and sorely needed a night's unbroken rest--but if the end should be +the bleeding to death of this poor man-- + +She dared not think of it. She went back to bed but not to sleep. She +lay wide awake keenly anxious for her husband's return. And when at last +he came her lips could hardly frame the question, "How is he, John?" + +"Pretty badly hurt, but not fatally." + +"Thank heaven!" Mary whispered, and formed a quick resolve which she +never broke. This belonged to her husband's life--it must remain a part +of it to the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +One lovely morning in April, Mary was called to the telephone. + +"I want you to drive to the country with me this morning," said her +husband. + +"I'll be delighted. I have a little errand down town and I'll come to +the office--we can start from there." Accordingly half an hour later she +walked into the office and seated herself in a big chair to wait till +John was ready. The door opened and a small freckle-faced boy entered. + +"Good morning, Governor," said the doctor. The governor grinned. + +"What can I do for you today?" + +"How much will ye charge to pull a tooth?" + +"Well, I'll pull the tooth and if it don't hurt I won't charge anything. +Sit down." + +The boy sat down and the doctor got out his forceps. The tooth came hard +but he got it. The boy clapped his hand over his mouth but not a sound +escaped him. + +"There it is," said the doctor, holding out the offending member. "Do +you want it?" A boy's tooth is a treasure to be exhibited to all one's +friends. He took it and put it securely in his pocket. + +"How much do I have to pay?" + +"Did it hurt?" + +"Nope." + +"Nothing at all." + +The boy slid from the chair and out of the door, ecstasy overspreading +all the freckles. + +"That boy has a future," said Mary looking after him with a smile. + +"I see they have brought the horse. We must be starting." + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"They want ye down at Pete Jansen's agin." + +"What's the matter there now?" + +"O, that youngun's been _drinkin'_ somethin' agin." + +"Into the lye this time, too?" + +"No, it's coal oil and bluin' this time and I don't know what else." + +"I'll be down right away," said the doctor, taking up his hat. + +"Get into the buggy and drive down with me, Mary, it's just at the edge +of town and then we can drive on into the country." + +When they stopped at the house, an unpainted little frame structure, +Mary held the horse while her husband went in. + +"Where's the boy?" he asked, looking around. + +"He's out in the back yard a-playin' now, I guess," his mother replied +from the bed. + +"Then what in thunder did you send for me for?" + +"Why, I was scared for fear it would kill him." The doctor turned to go +then paused to ask, "How's the baby?" + +"She's doin' fine." + +"She's just about a week old now, isn't she?" + +"A week yesterday. Don't you want to see how much she's growed?" + +The doctor went to the bed and looked down at the wee little maiden. + +"Great God!" he exclaimed, so fiercely that the woman was frightened. +"Why haven't you let me know about this baby's eyes?" + +"W'y, we didn't think it'd 'mount to anything. We thought they'd git +well in a day or two." + +"She'll be blind in less than a week if something isn't done for them." + +"Grandmother's been a doctorin' 'em some." + +"Well, there's going to be a change of doctors right straight. I'm going +to treat this baby's eyes myself." + +"We don't want any strong medicine put in a baby's eyes." + +"It don't make a bit of difference what you want. I'm going to the drug +store now to get what I need and I want you to have warm water and clean +cloths ready by the time I get back. Is there anyone here to do it?" + +"There's a piece of a girl out there in the kitchen. She ain't much +'count." The doctor went to the kitchen door and gave his orders. + +"I'd ruther you'd let the baby's eyes alone. I'm afraid to have strong +medicine put in 'em." + +For answer he went out, got into the buggy and drove rapidly back to +town where he procured what he needed and in a few minutes was back. + +"You'd better come in this time, Mary, you'll get tired of waiting and +besides I want you to see this baby. I want you to know something about +what every father and mother ought to understand." + +They went in and the doctor took the baby up and seated himself by the +chair on which stood a basin of water. The mother, with very ungracious +demeanor, looked on. Mary, shocked and filled with pity, looked down +into the baby's face. The inflammation in the eyes was terrible. The +secretion constantly exuded and hung in great globules to the tiny lids. +Never in her life had she seen anything like it. "Let me hold it for +you," she said, sitting down and taking the baby in her lap. + +The doctor turned the little head toward him and held it gently between +his knees. He took a pair of goggles from his pocket and put them over +his eyes to protect them from the poison, then tenderly as any mother +could have done, he bathed and cleansed the poor little eyes opening so +inauspiciously upon the world. He thought as he worked of this terrible +scourge of infancy, producing one-third of all the blindness in the +world. He thought too, that almost all of this blindness was preventable +by prompt and proper treatment. Statistics had proven these two things +beyond all doubt. He thought of the earnest physicians who had labored +long to have some laws enacted in regard to this stupendous evil but +with little result.[1] + + [1] 1. Ophthalmia Neonatorum + + 2. There has been legislation for the prevention of blindness in the + States of New York, Maine, Rhode Island and Illinois. + +When they were in the buggy again Mary said, "But what if the baby goes +blind after all? Of course they would say that you did it with your +'strong medicine.'" + +"Of course they would, but that would not disturb me in the least. But +it will not go blind now. I'll see to that." + +Soon they had left the town behind them and were fairly on their way. +The soft, yet bracing, air of the April morning was delightful. The sun +shone warm. Birds carolled everywhere. The buds on the oak trees were +swelling, while those on the maples were bursting into red and furzy +bloom. Far off to the left a tall sycamore held out white arms in +welcome to the Springtime and perfect stillness lay upon the landscape. + +"I am so glad the long reign of winter and bad roads is ended, John, so +I can get out with you again into the blessed country." + +"And I am glad to have good company." + +"Thanks for that gallant little speech. Ask me often, but I won't go +every time because you might get tired of me and I'd be sure to get +tired of you." + +"Thanks for that gracious little speech." + + * * * * * + +That evening when the doctor and Mary were sitting alone, she said, +"John, that baby's eyes have haunted me all day long. And you say +one-third of the blindness of the world is due to this disease." + +"Yes." + +"That seems to me a terrific accusation against you doctors. What have +you been doing to prevent it?" + +"Everything that has been done--not very much, I'm afraid. Speaking for +myself, I can say that I have long been deeply interested. I have +written several papers on the subject--one for our State Medical +Society." + +"So far so good. But I'd like to know more about it." + +"Write to the secretary of the State Board of Health for all the +information that he can give you." + +The next day Mary wrote. Three days later she received the following +letter: + + SPRINGFIELD, NOV. 16, 1909. + + My dear Mrs. Blank: + + Several states of the Union have laws in relation to the prevention + of blindness, some good, some bad, and some indifferent, and I fear + that the last applies to the manner in which the laws are enforced + in the majority of the States. In the December, 1908, _Bulletin_ of + this Board, a copy of which I send you under separate cover, you + will find the Illinois law, which, as you can readily see, is very + difficult of enforcement. + + But, as I said, much can be done in its enforcement if the State + Board of Health can secure the co-operation of the physicians of the + State. However, in this connection you will note that I have made an + appeal to physicians, on page 757. Yet, to the best of my knowledge, + the Board has not received one inquiry in regard to the enforcement + of this law, except from the Committee on the Prevention of + Ophthalmia Neonatorum. + + In regard to the other States, it will take me some time to look up + the laws, but I will advise you in a few days. + + Sincerely yours, + J. A. EGAN. + +After reading it carefully through, Mary's eye went back to the +sentence, "Much can be done if the State Board of Health can secure the +co-operation of the physicians of the State." + +She rose and walked the floor. "If I were a Voice--a persuasive voice," +she thought, "I would fly to the office of every physician in our great +State and then to every physician in the land and would whisper in his +ear, 'It is your glorious privilege to give light to sightless eyes. It +is more: it is your sacred duty. O, be up and doing!'" + +"To think, John," she said, turning impetuously toward her husband, +"that I, all these years the wife of a man who knows this terrible +truth, should just be finding it out. Then think of the thousands of men +and women who know nothing about it. How are they to know? Who is to +tell them? Who is to blame for the blindness in the first place? Who +can--" + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this Dr. Blank?" + +"Yes." + +"This is Mr. Ardmore. Can you come up to my house right away?" + +"Right away." + +When he arrived at his destination he was met at the door by a +well-dressed, handsome young man. "Just come into this room for a few +minutes, Doctor. My wife says they are not quite ready for you in +there." + +"Who is the patient?" asked the doctor as he walked into the room +indicated. + +"The baby boy." + +"The baby boy!" exclaimed the doctor. "I didn't know the little rascal +had got here." + +"Yes, you were out of town. My wife and I thought that ended the matter +but he got here just the same." + +"Mighty glad to hear it. How old is he?" + +"Just ten days." + +"Pretty fine, isn't he?" + +"You bet! I wouldn't take all the farms in these United States for him." + +"To be sure. To be sure," laughed the doctor. He picked up a little +volume lying open on the table. "Do you like Omar?" he asked, aimlessly +turning the pages. + +"Very much. I don't always get the old Persian's meaning exactly. Take +this verse," he reached for the book and turning back a few pages read: + + "The moving finger writes; and having writ, + Moves on; nor all your piety nor wit + Shall lure it back to cancel half a line, + Nor all your tears wash out a word of it. + +That sounds pretty but it has something in it that almost scares a +fellow--he doesn't know why." + +The nurse appeared in the doorway and announced that the doctor might +come in now. Both men rose and went across the hall into the bedroom. +The doctor shook hands with the baby's mother. "Where did you get this?" +he asked, laying his hand on the downy little head. + +"He came out of the everywhere into the here," she quoted, smiling. + +"Nurse, turn the baby's face up so the doctor can see his eyes. They're +greatly inflamed, Doctor," she said. + +The doctor started. "Bring a light closer," he said sharply. + +While the light was being brought he asked, "Did this inflammation begin +when the baby was about three days old?" + +"He was exactly three days old." + +"And been growing worse ever since?" + +"Yes. Dr. Brown was with me when he was born. He came in the next day +and everything was all right. Then he was called to Chicago and I didn't +know enough about babies to know that this might be serious." + +"_You_ ought to have known," said the doctor sternly, turning to the +nurse. + +"I am not a professional nurse. I have never seen anything like this +before." + +The light was brought and the nurse took the baby in her arms. The +doctor, bending over it, lifted the swollen little lids and earnestly +scrutinized the eyes. _The cornea was entirely destroyed!_ + +"O God!" The words came near escaping him. Sick at heart he turned his +face away that the mother might not see. She must not know the awful +truth until she was stronger. He gave some instructions to the nurse, +then left the room followed by the baby's father. + +"Stop for a few minutes, Doctor, if you please. I'd like to ask you +something about this," and both resumed their seats, after Mr. Ardmore +had closed the door. + +"Do you think the baby's eyes have been hurt by too much light?" + +"No by darkness--Egyptian darkness." + +The young man looked at him in wonder. + +"What is the disease?" + +"It is Ophthalmia Neonatorum, or infantile sore eyes." + +"What is the nature of it?" + +"It is always an infection." + +"How can that be? There has been nobody at all in the room except Dr. +Brown and the nurse." + +The doctor did not speak. There came into his mind the image of Mary as +she had asked so earnestly, "How are they to know? Who is to tell them?" + +Leaning slightly forward and looking the young man in the face he said, +"I do not know absolutely, but _you_ know!" + +"Know what?" + +"Whether or not your child's eyes have had a chance to be infected by +certain germs." + +"What do you mean, Doctor?" asked the young father in vague alarm. + +Slowly, deliberately, and with keen eyes searching the other's face the +doctor made reply: + +"I mean that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children." + +There was bewildered silence for an instant then a wave of crimson +surged over neck, cheek and brow. It was impossible to meet the doctor's +eyes. The young man looked down and made no attempt to speak. By and by +he said in a low voice, "It's no use for me to deny to you, Doctor, that +I have been a fool and have let my base passions master me. But if I had +dreamed of any such result as this they wouldn't have mastered me--I +know that." + +"The man that scorns these vile things because of the eternal wrong in +them will never have any fearful results rising up to confront him." + +"All that has been put behind me forever, Doctor; I feel the truth and +wisdom of what you say. Just get my boy's eyes well and he shall never +be ashamed of his father." + +The doctor looked away from the handsome, intelligent face so full at +that moment of love and tenderness for this new son which had been given +into his care and keeping, and a wave of pity surged over him. But he +must go on to the bitter end. + +"You have not understood this old Persian's verse," he said, taking up +the little book again. "Tonight his meaning is to be made plain to you." + +Slowly he read: + + "The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, + Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit + Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, + Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it." + +He laid the volume gently down and turning, faced the younger man. + +"Listen: In those licentious days the Moving Finger was writing a word +for the future to reveal. It wrote BLIND in the eyes of your helpless +child." + +"My God! You don't mean it!" + +"It is true. The cornea is destroyed." + +A deathly pallor overspread the young man's face. He bowed his head in +his hands and great sobs shook his frame. "My God! My God!" he gasped +over and over again. Accustomed as the doctor was to suffering and +sorrow this man's anguish was too much for him. The tears rolled down +his cheeks and he made no effort to restrain them. + +After a long time the younger man raised his head and spoke in broken +words, "Doctor, I must not keep you here. You are needed elsewhere. +Leave me to Remorse. I am young and you are growing old, Doctor, but +will you take this word from me? You and all in your profession should +long ago have told us these things. The world should not lie in +ignorance of this tremendous evil. If men will not be saved from +themselves they will save their unborn children, if they only know. God +help them." + +The doctor went slowly homeward, his mind filled with the awful calamity +in the household he had left. "It is time the world is waking," he +thought. "We must arouse it." + + * * * * * + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"Is this Mrs. Blank?" + +It was a manly voice vibrating with youth and joy. + +"I want to tell you that your husband has just left a sweet little +daughter at our house." + +"Oh, has he! I'm very glad, Mr. Farwell. Thank you for telephoning. +Father, mother and baby all doing well?" + +"Fine as silk. I had to tell _somebody_ right away. Now I'm off to send +some telegrams to the folks at home. Goodbye." + +Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + +"This is Mrs. Blank is it not?" + +"Yes." + +"Will you please tell the doctor that father is dead. He died twenty +minutes ago." + +"The doctor was expecting the message, Mr. Jameson," said Mary gently. +This, too, was the voice of a young man, but quiet, subdued, bringing +tidings of death instead of life. And Mary, going back to her seat in +the twilight, thought of the words of one--Life is a narrow vale between +the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. The eternity before the +baby came, the eternity after the old man went, were solemnly in her +thoughts. But they were not cold and barren peaks to her. They were +crowned with light and warmth and love. + +And into her thoughts came, too, the never-ending story of the 'phone as +it was unfolding itself to her throughout the years. Humor and pathos, +folly and wisdom, tragedy and comedy, pain, anguish, love, joy, +sorrow--all had spoken and had poured their brief story into the +listening ear of the helper. And when he was not there, into the ear of +one who must help in her own poor way. + +O countless, countless messages stored in her memory to await his +coming! Only she could know how faithfully she had guarded and delivered +them. Only she could-- + +Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. + + + + + [ Transcriber's Note: + + The following is a list of corrections made to the original. + The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. + + "That's about five miles out, isn't it. Whose sick out there?" + "That's about five miles out, isn't it. Who's sick out there?" + + Well, where is the _doctor_?" + "Well, where is the _doctor_?" + + Small's at Drayton. When the voice came she said, "I wanted to tell you + Small's at Drayton." When the voice came she said, "I wanted to tell you + + "Mary heard the 'phoner say in an aside, "He won't be back for an hour + Mary heard the 'phoner say in an aside, "He won't be back for an hour + + asked central to give her Drayton, Mr. Walton's house." + asked central to give her Drayton, Mr. Walton's house. + + She flew to the Farmers' phone. + She flew to the Farmers' 'phone. + + "Wait a minute, I'll see." She raced through the pages,--yes, here it + "Wait a minute, I'll see." She raced through the pages,--"yes, here it + + "Thought you was a-goin' to hold the' phone. I've had a turrible time + "Thought you was a-goin' to hold the 'phone. I've had a turrible time + + "Shake up your 'phone. I can't hear you. + "Shake up your 'phone. I can't hear you." + + interested listener at the phone. Going, one morning, to speak to a + interested listener at the 'phone. Going, one morning, to speak to a + + "Doctor, will it hurt the baby to bathe it every morning?" I've been + "Doctor, will it hurt the baby to bathe it every morning? I've been + + "Likes to see it's mamma?" + "Likes to see its mamma?" + + My land! I've been here three or four times. Looks like I'd ketch him + "My land! I've been here three or four times. Looks like I'd ketch him + + was mightly emphatic." + was mightily emphatic." + + That sounds good, Doctor. I was awfully scared. Much obliged. + "That sounds good, Doctor. I was awfully scared. Much obliged. + + "Wait a minute, Mrs. Blank," said the voice of central, some one is + "Wait a minute, Mrs. Blank," said the voice of central, "some one is + + "Yes, you _can_!" roared a voice. You jist want to fool around." The + "Yes, you _can_!" roared a voice. "You jist want to fool around." The + + It's _exactly_ in his line. Years ago when I was a little girl he + "It's _exactly_ in his line. Years ago when I was a little girl he + + would break and then she said, "Father, I _must_ tell you, but don't + would break and then she said, 'Father, I _must_ tell you, but don't + + tell mother; and then she told me." + tell mother'; and then she told me." + + "The doctor was fixing up powders and went placidly on till he got + The doctor was fixing up powders and went placidly on till he got + + "Oh," said the voice, somewhat mollified, I'll just call him up when he + "Oh," said the voice, somewhat mollified, "I'll just call him up when he + + number again with vehemence." + number again with vehemence. + + The circumflexes were irresistible." + The circumflexes were irresistible. + + him this evening. This is Mrs. X. Will you be right out? + him this evening. This is Mrs. X. Will you be right out?" + + "When I yas a young fellow and first hung up my shingle it was a + "When I was a young fellow and first hung up my shingle it was a + + "Certainly," I answered promptly. + 'Certainly,' I answered promptly. + + "My husband is very sick and I came to see if you would go down and ask + 'My husband is very sick and I came to see if you would go down and ask + + Dr. Smithson to come and see him." I swallowed my astonishment and + Dr. Smithson to come and see him.' I swallowed my astonishment and + + sweet day you'll retire from practise. Then hully-gee! won't I be free! + sweet day you'll retire from practice. Then hully-gee! won't I be free! + + "Then do it. Do it right away. Have the water _hot_, now. + "Then do it. Do it right away. Have the water _hot_, now." + + If they knew what I know their little hearts would almost burst for + "If they knew what I know their little hearts would almost burst for + + there," she continued. "A woman's intuitions are safe guides' but she + there," she continued. "'A woman's intuitions are safe guides' but she + + table his wife, said, "John, I shouldn't think you'd say things like that + table his wife said, "John, I shouldn't think you'd say things like that + + "Hell-_o_!" Where's the doctor?" + "Hell-_o_! Where's the doctor?" + + "Yes. When I went in the man who was a stranger to me, said, "I'll tell + "Yes. When I went in the man who was a stranger to me, said, 'I'll tell + + said to myself, "He's the man I want." + said to myself, "He's the man I want."'" + + "Very well Thank you." + "Very well. Thank you." + + The voice was icily regular, spendidly null. It nettled the doctor. + The voice was icily regular, splendidly null. It nettled the doctor. + + "_Where do you live!_" + "_Where do you live?_" + + "Well maybe it does. I've not got my directions here yet--then it must + "Well, maybe it does. I've not got my directions here yet--then it must + + "My wife swallowed poison. Hurry, Doctor, for God's sake! + "My wife swallowed poison. Hurry, Doctor, for God's sake!" + + CHAPTER XVI. + CHAPTER XVII. + + "I'll be down right away," said the doctor, taking up his hat." + "I'll be down right away," said the doctor, taking up his hat. + + "Why haven't you let me know about this baby's eyes." + "Why haven't you let me know about this baby's eyes?" + + inauspiciously upon the world. He thought as he worked of this terribe + inauspiciously upon the world. He thought as he worked of this terrible + + "Thanks for that gracious little speech. + "Thanks for that gracious little speech." + + Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. + Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it." + + ] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of a Doctor's +Telephone--Told by His Wife, by Ellen M. 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