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diff --git a/old/orig9320-h/p4.htm b/old/orig9320-h/p4.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..79c38a4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig9320-h/p4.htm @@ -0,0 +1,712 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>A DOCTOR OF THE OLD SCHOOL, Part 4</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {margin:15%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + img {border: 0;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + PRE { font-family: Times; font-size: 97%; margin-left: 15%;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + +<h1>Part 4</h1> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="9320-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Next Part</a> + </td></tr> +</table> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<center> +<h1>A DOCTOR OF THE OLD SCHOOL</h1> + +<h2>by Ian Maclaren</h2> +<a name="Frontispiece"></a> + +<a href="images/Frontispiece.png"><img alt="Frontispiece.jpg (87K)" src="images/Frontispiece.jpg" height="693" width="598"></a> + +<a href="images/001.png"><img alt="001.jpg (155K)" src="images/001.jpg" height="817" width="503"></a> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center> +<h1> +Part 4 +<br><br> +THE DOCTOR'S LAST JOURNEY.</h1> +</center> +<br><br> +<br><br> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +[A click on the face of any illustration<br> +will enlarge it to full size.] +<br><br> +<a href="#Frontispiece">DR. MacLURE</a><br> +<a href="#110">BOOK IV. THE DOCTOR'S LAST JOURNEY</a><br> +<a href="#112">Comin' in Frae Glen Urtach</a><br> +<a href="#115">Drumsheugh was Full of Tact</a><br> +<a href="#118">Told Drumsheugh that the Doctor was not Able to Rise</a><br> +<a href="#121">With the Old Warm Grip</a><br> +<a href="#124">Drumsheugh Looked Wistfully</a><br> +<a href="#128">Wud Gie Her a Bite o' Grass</a><br> +<a href="#130">Ma Mither's Bible</a><br> +<a href="#134">It's a Coorse Nicht, Jess</a><br> +<a href="#137">She's Carryin' a Licht in Her Hand</a><br> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h2> +PREFACE</h2> + +<p>It is with great good will that I write this short preface to the +edition of "A Doctor of the Old School" (which has been illustrated by +Mr. Gordon after an admirable and understanding fashion) because there +are two things that I should like to say to my readers, being also my +friends.</p> + +<p>One, is to answer a question that has been often and fairly asked. Was +there ever any doctor so self-forgetful and so utterly Christian as +William MacLure? To which I am proud to reply, on my conscience: Not one +man, but many in Scotland and in the South country. I will dare prophecy +also across the sea.</p> + +<p>It has been one man's good fortune to know four country doctors, not one +of whom was without his faults—Weelum was not perfect—but who, each +one, might have sat for my hero. Three are now resting from their +labors, and the fourth, if he ever should see these lines, would never +identify himself.</p> + +<p>Then I desire to thank my readers, and chiefly the medical profession +for the reception given to the Doctor of Drumtochty.</p> + +<p>For many years I have desired to pay some tribute to a class whose +service to the community was known to every countryman, but after the +tale had gone forth my heart failed. For it might have been despised +for the little grace of letters in the style and because of the outward +roughness of the man. But neither his biographer nor his circumstances +have been able to obscure MacLure who has himself won all honest hearts, +and received afresh the recognition of his more distinguished brethren. +From all parts of the English-speaking world letters have come in +commendation of Weelum MacLure, and many were from doctors who had +received new courage. It is surely more honor than a new writer could +ever have deserved to receive the approbation of a profession whose +charity puts us all to shame.</p> + +<p>May I take this first opportunity to declare how deeply my heart has +been touched by the favor shown to a simple book by the American people, +and to express my hope that one day it may be given me to see you face +to face.</p> + +<p>IAN MACLAREN. Liverpool, Oct. 4, 1895.</p> + +<br><br> + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<br><br> +<a name="IV"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h1>THE DOCTOR'S LAST JOURNEY.</h1> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<a name="110"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/110.png"><img alt="110.jpg (68K)" src="images/110.jpg" height="623" width="525"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<p>Drumtochty had a vivid recollection of the winter when Dr. MacLure was +laid up for two months with a broken leg, and the Glen was dependent on +the dubious ministrations of the Kildrummie doctor. Mrs. Macfayden +also pretended to recall a "whup" of some kind or other he had in the +fifties, but this was considered to be rather a pyrotechnic display of +Elspeth's superior memory than a serious statement of fact. MacLure +could not have ridden through the snow of forty winters without +suffering, yet no one ever heard him complain, and he never pled +illness to any messenger by night or day.</p> + +<p>"It took me," said Jamie Soutar to Milton afterwards, "the feck o' ten +meenuts tae howk him 'an' Jess oot ae snawy nicht when Drums turned bad +sudden, and if he didna try to excuse himself for no hearing me at aince +wi' some story aboot juist comin' in frae Glen Urtach, and no bein' in +his bed for the laist twa nichts.</p> + +<p>"He wes that carefu' o' himsel an' lazy that if it hedna been for the +siller, a've often thocht, Milton, he wud never hae dune a handstroke o' +wark in the Glen.</p> + +<p>"What scunnered me wes the wy the bairns were ta'en in wi' him. Man, +a've seen him tak a wee laddie on his knee that his ain mither cudna +quiet, an' lilt 'Sing a song o' saxpence' till the bit mannie would be +lauchin' like a gude are, an' pooin' the doctor's beard.</p> + + + +<a name="112"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/112.png"><img alt="112.jpg (57K)" src="images/112.jpg" height="466" width="463"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"As for the weemen, he fair cuist a glamour ower them; they're daein' +naethin' noo but speak aboot this body and the ither he cured, an' hoo +he aye hed a couthy word for sick fouk. Weemen hae nae discernment, +Milton; tae hear them speak ye wud think MacLure hed been a releegious +man like yersel, although, as ye said, he wes little mair than a Gallio.</p> + +<p>"Bell Baxter was haverin' awa in the shop tae sic an extent aboot the wy +MacLure brocht roond Saunders when he hed the fever that a' gied oot at +the door, a' wes that disgusted, an' a'm telt when Tammas Mitchell heard +the news in the smiddy he wes juist on the greeting.</p> + +<p>"The smith said that he wes thinkin' o' Annie's tribble, but ony wy a' +ca' it rael bairnly. It's no like Drumtochty; ye're setting an example, +Milton, wi' yir composure. But a' mind ye took the doctor's meesure as +sune as ye cam intae the pairish."</p> + +<p>It is the penalty of a cynic that he must have some relief for his +secret grief, and Milton began to weary of life in Jamie's hands +during those days.</p> + +<p>Drumtochty was not observant in the matter of health, but they had grown +sensitive about Dr. MacLure, and remarked in the kirkyard all summer +that he was failing.</p> + +<p>"He wes aye spare," said Hillocks, "an' he's been sair twisted for the +laist twenty year, but a' never mind him booed till the year. An' he's +gaein' intae sma' buke (bulk), an' a' dinna like that, neeburs.</p> + +<p>"The Glen wudna dae weel withoot Weelum MacLure, an' he's no as young as +he wes. Man, Drumsheugh, ye micht wile him aff tae the saut water atween +the neeps and the hairst. He's been workin' forty year for a holiday, +an' it's aboot due."</p> + +<p>Drumsheugh was full of tact, and met MacLure quite by accident on the +road.</p> + +<p>"Saunders'll no need me till the shearing begins," he explained to the +doctor, "an' a'm gaein' tae Brochty for a turn o' the hot baths; they're +fine for the rheumatics.</p> + + +<a name="115"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/115.png"><img alt="115.jpg (49K)" src="images/115.jpg" height="456" width="477"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"Wull ye no come wi' me for auld lang syne? it's lonesome for a solitary +man, an' it wud dae ye gude."</p> + +<p>"Na, na, Drumsheugh," said MacLure, who understood perfectly, "a've dune +a' thae years withoot a break, an' a'm laith (unwilling) tae be takin' +holidays at the tail end.</p> + +<p>"A'll no be mony months wi' ye a' thegither noo, an' a'm wanting tae +spend a' the time a' hev in the Glen. Ye see yersel that a'll sune be +getting ma lang rest, an' a'll no deny that a'm wearyin' for it."</p> + +<p>As autumn passed into winter, the Glen noticed that the doctor's hair +had turned grey, and that his manner had lost all its roughness. A +feeling of secret gratitude filled their hearts, and they united in a +conspiracy of attention. Annie Mitchell knitted a huge comforter in red +and white, which the doctor wore in misery for one whole day, out of +respect for Annie, and then hung it in his sitting-room as a wall +ornament. Hillocks used to intercept him with hot drinks, and one +drifting day compelled him to shelter till the storm abated. Flora +Campbell brought a wonderful compound of honey and whiskey, much tasted +in Auchindarroch, for his cough, and the mother of young Burnbrae filled +his cupboard with black jam, as a healing measure. Jamie Soutar seemed +to have an endless series of jobs in the doctor's direction, and looked +in "juist tae rest himsel" in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>MacLure had been slowly taking in the situation, and at last he +unburdened himself one night to Jamie.</p> + +<p>"What ails the fouk, think ye? for they're aye lecturin' me noo tae +tak care o' the weet and tae wrap masel up, an' there's no a week but +they're sendin' bit presents tae the house, till a'm fair ashamed."</p> + +<p>"Oo, a'll explain that in a meenut," answered Jamie, "for a' ken the +Glen weel. Ye see they're juist try in' the Scripture plan o' heapin' +coals o' fire on yer head.</p> + + + +<a name="118"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/118.png"><img alt="118.jpg (128K)" src="images/118.jpg" height="789" width="488"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"Here ye've been negleckin' the fouk in seeckness an' lettin' them dee +afore their freends' eyes withoot a fecht, an' refusin' tae gang tae a +puir wumman in her tribble, an' frichtenin' the bairns—no, a'm no +dune—and scourgin' us wi' fees, and livin' yersel' on the fat o' the +land.</p> + +<p>"Ye've been carryin' on this trade ever sin yir father dee'd, and the +Glen didna notis. But ma word, they've fund ye oot at laist, an' they're +gaein' tae mak ye suffer for a' yir ill usage. Div ye understand noo?" +said Jamie, savagely.</p> + +<p>For a while MacLure was silent, and then he only said:</p> + +<p>"It's little a' did for the puir bodies; but ye hev a gude hert, Jamie, +a rael good hert."</p> + +<p>It was a bitter December Sabbath, and the fathers were settling the +affairs of the parish ankle deep in snow, when MacLure's old housekeeper +told Drumsheugh that the doctor was not able to rise, and wished to see +him in the afternoon. "Ay, ay," said Hillocks, shaking his head, and +that day Drumsheugh omitted four pews with the ladle, while Jamie was so +vicious on the way home that none could endure him.</p> + +<p>Janet had lit a fire in the unused grate, and hung a plaid by the window +to break the power of the cruel north wind, but the bare room with its +half-a-dozen bits of furniture and a worn strip of carpet, and the +outlook upon the snow drifted up to the second pane of the window and +the black firs laden with their icy burden, sent a chill to Drumsheugh's +heart.</p> + +<p>The doctor had weakened sadly, and could hardly lift his head, but his +face lit up at the sight of his visitor, and the big hand, which was now +quite refined in its whiteness, came out from the bed-clothes with the +old warm grip.</p> + + + +<a name="121"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/121.png"><img alt="121.jpg (72K)" src="images/121.jpg" height="581" width="452"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"Come in by, man, and sit doon; it's an awfu' day tae bring ye sae far, +but a' kent ye wudna grudge the traivel.</p> + +<p>"A' wesna sure till last nicht, an' then a' felt it wudna be lang, an' +a' took a wearyin' this mornin' tae see ye.</p> + +<p>"We've been friends sin' we were laddies at the auld school in the firs, +an' a' wud like ye tae be wi' me at the end. Ye 'ill stay the nicht, +Paitrick, for auld lang syne."</p> + +<p>Drumsheugh was much shaken, and the sound of the Christian name, which +he had not heard since his mother's death, gave him a "grue" (shiver), +as if one had spoken from the other world.</p> + +<p>"It's maist awfu' tae hear ye speakin' aboot deein', Weelum; a' canna +bear it. We 'ill hae the Muirtown doctor up, an' ye 'ill be aboot again +in nae time.</p> + +<p>"Ye hevna ony sair tribble; ye're juist trachled wi' hard wark an' +needin' a rest. Dinna say ye're gaein' tae leave us, Weelum; we canna +dae withoot ye in Drumtochty;" and Drumsheugh looked wistfully for some +word of hope.</p> + +<p>"Na, na, Paitrick, naethin' can be dune, an' it's ower late tae send for +ony doctor. There's a knock that canna be mista'en, an' a' heard it last +night. A've focht deith for ither fouk mair than forty year, but ma ain +time hes come at laist.</p> + +<p>"A've nae tribble worth mentionin'—a bit titch o' bronchitis—an' a've +hed a graund constitution; but a'm fair worn oot, Paitrick; that's ma +complaint, an' its past curin'."</p> + +<p>Drumsheugh went over to the fireplace, and for a while did nothing but +break up the smouldering peats, whose smoke powerfully affected his nose +and eyes.</p> + + + +<a name="124"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/124.png"><img alt="124.jpg (82K)" src="images/124.jpg" height="637" width="484"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"When ye're ready, Paitrick, there's twa or three little trokes a' wud +like ye tae look aifter, an' a'll tell ye aboot them as lang's ma head's +clear.</p> + +<p>"A' didna keep buiks, as ye ken, for a' aye hed a guid memory, so +naebody 'ill be harried for money aifter ma deith, and ye 'ill hae nae +accoonts tae collect.</p> + +<p>"But the fouk are honest in Drumtochty, and they 'ill be offerin' ye +siller, an' a'll gie ye ma mind aboot it. Gin it be a puir body, tell +her tae keep it and get a bit plaidie wi' the money, and she 'ill maybe +think o' her auld doctor at a time. Gin it be a bien (well-to-do) man, +tak half of what he offers, for a Drumtochty man wud scorn to be mean in +sic circumstances; and if onybody needs a doctor an' canna pay for him, +see he's no left tae dee when a'm oot o' the road."</p> + +<p>"Nae fear o' that as lang as a'm livin', Weelum; that hundred's still +tae the fore, ye ken, an' a'll tak care it's weel spent.</p> + +<p>"Yon wes the best job we ever did thegither, an' dookin' Saunders, ye +'ill no forget that nicht, Weelum"—a gleam came into the doctor's +eyes—"tae say neathin' o' the Highlan' fling."</p> + +<p>The remembrance of that great victory came upon Drumsheugh, and tried +his fortitude.</p> + +<p>"What 'ill become o's when ye're no here tae gie a hand in time o' need? +we 'ill tak ill wi' a stranger that disna ken ane o's frae anither."</p> + +<p>"It's a' for the best, Paitrick, an' ye 'ill see that in a whilie. A've +kent fine that ma day wes ower, an' that ye sud hae a younger man.</p> + +<p>"A' did what a' cud tae keep up wi' the new medicine, but a' hed little +time for readin', an' nane for traivellin'.</p> + +<p>"A'm the last o' the auld schule, an' a' ken as weel as onybody thet a' +wesna sae dainty an' fine-mannered as the town doctors. Ye took me as a' +wes, an' naebody ever cuist up tae me that a' wes a plain man. Na, na; +ye've been rael kind an' conseederate a' thae years."</p> + +<p>"Weelum, gin ye cairry on sic nonsense ony langer," interrupted +Drumsheugh, huskily, "a'll leave the hoose; a' canna stand it."</p> + +<p>"It's the truth, Paitrick, but we 'ill gae on wi' our wark, far a'm +failin' fast.</p> + +<p>"Gie Janet ony sticks of furniture she needs tae furnish a hoose, +and sell a' thing else tae pay the wricht (undertaker) an' bedrel +(grave-digger). If the new doctor be a young laddie and no verra rich, +ye micht let him hae the buiks an' instruments; it 'ill aye be a help.</p> + +<p>"But a' wudna like ye tae sell Jess, for she's been a faithfu' servant, +an' a freend tae. There's a note or twa in that drawer a' savit, an' +if ye kent ony man that wud gie her a bite o' grass and a sta' in his +stable till she followed her maister—'</p> + +<p>"Confoond ye, Weelum," broke out Drumsheugh; "its doonricht cruel o' ye +to speak like this tae me. Whar wud Jess gang but tae Drumsheugh? she +'ill hae her run o' heck an' manger sae lang as she lives; the Glen +wudna like tae see anither man on Jess, and nae man 'ill ever touch the +auld mare."</p> + + +<a name="128"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/128.png"><img alt="128.jpg (57K)" src="images/128.jpg" height="542" width="435"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"Dinna mind me, Paitrick, for a" expeckit this; but ye ken we're no +verra gleg wi' oor tongues in Drumtochty, an' dinna tell a' that's in +oor hearts.</p> + +<p>"Weel, that's a' that a' mind, an' the rest a' leave tae yersel'. A've +neither kith nor kin tae bury me, sae you an' the neeburs 'ill need tae +lat me doon; but gin Tammas Mitchell or Saunders be stannin' near and +lookin' as if they wud like a cord, gie't tae them, Paitrick. They're +baith dour chiels, and haena muckle tae say, but Tammas hes a graund +hert, and there's waur fouk in the Glen than Saunders.</p> + +<p>"A'm gettin' drowsy, an' a'll no be able tae follow ye sune, a' doot; +wud ye read a bit tae me afore a' fa' ower?</p> + +<p>"Ye 'ill find ma mither's Bible on the drawers' heid, but ye 'ill need +tae come close tae the bed, for a'm no hearin' or seein' sae weel as a' +wes when ye cam."</p> + +<p>Drumsheugh put on his spectacles and searched for a comfortable +Scripture, while the light of the lamp fell on his shaking hands and the +doctor's face where the shadow was now settling.</p> + + + +<a name="130"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/130.png"><img alt="130.jpg (48K)" src="images/130.jpg" height="315" width="471"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"Ma mither aye wantit this read tae her when she wes sober" (weak), and +Drumsheugh began, "In My Father's house are many mansions," but MacLure +stopped him.</p> + +<p>"It's a bonnie word, an' yir mither wes a sanct; but it's no for the +like o' me. It's ower gude; a' daurna tak it.</p> + +<p>"Shut the buik an' let it open itsel, an' ye 'ill get a bit a've been +readin' every nicht the laist month."</p> + +<p>Then Drumsheugh found the Parable wherein the Master tells us what God +thinks of a Pharisee and of a penitent sinner, till he came to the +words: "And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so +much as his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be +merciful to me a sinner."</p> + +<p>"That micht hae been written for me, Paitrick, or ony ither auld sinner +that hes feenished his life, an' hes naethin' tae say for himsel'.</p> + +<p>"It wesna easy for me tae get tae kirk, but a' cud hae managed wi' a +stretch, an' a' used langidge a' sudna, an' a' micht hae been gentler, +and not been so short in the temper. A' see't a' noo.</p> + +<p>"It's ower late tae mend, but ye 'ill maybe juist say to the fouk that I +wes sorry, an' a'm houpin' that the Almichty 'ill hae mercy on me.</p> + +<p>"Cud ye ... pit up a bit prayer, Paitrick?"</p> + +<p>"A' haena the words," said Drumsheugh in great distress; "wud ye like's +tae send for the minister?"</p> + +<p>"It's no the time for that noo, an' a' wud rather hae yersel'—juist +what's in yir heart, Paitrick: the Almichty 'ill ken the lave (rest) +Himsel'."</p> + +<p>So Drumsheugh knelt and prayed with many pauses.</p> + +<p>"Almichty God ... dinna be hard on Weelum MacLure, for he's no been hard +wi' onybody in Drumtochty.... Be kind tae him as he's been tae us a' for +forty year.... We're a' sinners afore Thee.... Forgive him what he's +dune wrang, an' dinna cuist it up tae him.... Mind the fouk he's helpit +.... the wee-men an' bairnies.... an' gie him a welcome hame, for he's +sair needin't after a' his wark.... Amen."</p> + +<p>"Thank ye, Paitrick, and gude nicht tae ye. Ma ain true freend, gie's +yir hand, for a'll maybe no ken ye again.</p> + +<p>"Noo a'll say ma mither's prayer and hae a sleep, but ye 'ill no leave +me till a' is ower."</p> + +<p>Then he repeated as he had done every night of his life:</p> + +<center> +<table summary="poem"> +<tr><td> +<p> "This night I lay me down to sleep,<br> + I pray the Lord my soul to keep.<br> + And if I die before I wake,<br> + I pray the Lord my soul to take."</p> +</td></tr> +</table> + </center> + +<p>He was sleeping quietly when the wind drove the snow against the window +with a sudden "swish;" and he instantly awoke, so to say, in his sleep. +Some one needed him.</p> + +<p>"Are ye frae Glen Urtach?" and an unheard voice seemed to have answered +him.</p> + +<p>"Worse is she, an' suffering awfu'; that's no lichtsome; ye did richt +tae come.</p> + +<p>"The front door's drifted up; gang roond tae the back, an' ye 'ill get +intae the kitchen; a'll be ready in a meenut.</p> + +<p>"Gie's a hand wi' the lantern when a'm saidling Jess, an' ye needna come +on till daylicht; a' ken the road."</p> + + + +<a name="134"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/134.png"><img alt="134.jpg (68K)" src="images/134.jpg" height="475" width="480"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>Then he was away in his sleep on some errand of mercy, and struggling +through the storm. "It's a coorse nicht, Jess, an' heavy traivellin'; +can ye see afore ye, lass? for a'm clean confused wi' the snaw; bide a +wee till a' find the diveesion o' the roads; it's aboot here back or +forrit.</p> + +<p>"Steady, lass, steady, dinna plunge; i'ts a drift we're in, but ye're no +sinkin'; ... up noo; ... there ye are on the road again.</p> + +<p>"Eh, it's deep the nicht, an' hard on us baith, but there's a puir +wumman micht dee if we didna warstle through; ... that's it; ye ken fine +what a'm sayin.'</p> + +<p>"We 'ill hae tae leave the road here, an' tak tae the muir. Sandie 'ill +no can leave the wife alane tae meet us; ... feel for yersel" lass, and +keep oot o' the holes.</p> + +<p>"Yon's the hoose black in the snaw. Sandie! man, ye frichtened us; a' +didna see ye ahint the dyke; hoos the wife?"</p> + +<p>After a while he began again:</p> + +<p>"Ye're fair dune, Jess, and so a' am masel'; we're baith gettin' auld, +an' dinna tak sae weel wi' the nicht wark.</p> + +<p>"We 'ill sune be hame noo; this is the black wood, and it's no lang +aifter that; we're ready for oor beds, Jess.... ay, ye like a clap at a +time; mony a mile we've gaed hegither.</p> + +<p>"Yon's the licht in the kitchen window; nae wonder ye're nickering +(neighing).... it's been a stiff journey; a'm tired, lass.... a'm tired +tae deith," and the voice died into silence.</p> + +<p>Drumsheugh held his friend's hand, which now and again tightened in his, +and as he watched, a change came over the face on the pillow beside him. +The lines of weariness disappeared, as if God's hand had passed over it; +and peace began to gather round the closed eyes.</p> + +<p>The doctor has forgotten the toil of later years, and has gone back to +his boyhood.</p> + + + +<a name="137"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<a href="images/137.png"><img alt="137.jpg (95K)" src="images/137.jpg" height="720" width="397"></a> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<p>"The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want," he repeated, till he came to +the last verse, and then he hesitated.</p> +<center> +<table summary="poem"> +<tr><td> +<p> "Goodness and mercy all my life<br> + Shall surely follow me.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> +<p>"Follow me ... and ... and ... what's next? Mither said I wes tae haed +ready when she cam.</p> + +<p>"'A'll come afore ye gang tae sleep, Wullie, but ye 'ill no get yir kiss +unless ye can feenish the psalm.'</p> + +<p>"And ... in God's house ... for evermore my ... hoo dis it rin? a canna +mind the next word ... my, my—</p> + +<p>"It's ower dark noo tae read it, an' mither 'ill sune be comin."</p> + +<p>Drumsheugh, in an agony, whispered into his ear, "'My dwelling-place,' +Weelum."</p> + +<p>"That's it, that's it a' noo; wha said it?</p> +<center> +<table summary="poem"> +<tr><td> +<p> "And in God's house for evermore<br> + My dwelling-place shall be.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<p>"A'm ready noo, an' a'll get ma kiss when mither comes; a' wish she wud +come, for a'm tired an' wantin' tae sleep.</p> + +<p>"Yon's her step ... an' she's carryin' a licht in her hand; a' see it +through the door.</p> + +<p>"Mither! a' kent ye wudna forget yir laddie for ye promised tae come, +and a've feenished ma psalm.</p> +<center> +<table summary="poem"> +<tr><td> +<p> "And in God's house for evermore<br> + My dwelling-place shall be.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<p>"Gie me the kiss, mither, for a've been waitin' for ye, an' a'll sune be +asleep."</p> + +<p>The grey morning light fell on Drumsheugh, still holding his friend's +cold hand, and staring at a hearth where the fire had died down into +white ashes; but the peace on the doctor's face was of one who rested +from his labours.</p> + + + +<br><br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="9320-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Next Part</a> + </td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> + + + + + |