smallpox hospital.''
Upon my word, I was astonished at the
little woman's
indignation. She said just
those things which make you feel as if somebody
had been
calling you names or kicking
you--Was I really a doctor? and so on. It
did not gain by being put in the
ungrammatical tongue of Quakers. However, I
never did fancy
smallpox, and what could a
fellow get by doctoring wretches like these?
So I held my tongue and went away. About
a week afterwards I met Evans, the dispensary
man, a very common fellow, who was
said to be frank.
``Helloa!'' says he. ``Doctor, you made a
nice mistake about that darky at No. 709
Bedford street the other night. She had
nothing but measles, after all.''
``Of course I knew,'' said I, laughing; ``but
you don't think I was going in for dispensary
trash, do you?''
``I should think not,'' said Evans.
I
learned afterwards that this Miss Barker
had taken an
absurd fancy to the man
because he had doctored the darky and would
not let the Quakeress pay him. The end
was, when I wanted to get a
vacancy in the
Southwark Dispensary, where they do pay
the doctors, Miss Barker was malignant
enough to take
advantage of my oversight
by telling the whole story to the board; so
that Evans got in, and I was beaten.
You may be pretty sure that I found rather
slow the kind of practice I have described,
and began to look about for chances of
bettering myself. In this sort of
locality rather
risky cases turned up now and then; and as
soon as I got to be known as a
reliable man,
I began to get the
peculiar sort of practice I
wanted. Notwithstanding all my efforts, I
found myself, at the close of three years, with
all my means spent, and just able to live
meagerly from hand to mouth, which by no
means suited a man of my
refined tastes.
Once or twice I paid a visit to my aunt,
and was able to secure
moderate aid by
overhauling her concealed hoardings. But as to
these changes of property I was careful, and
did not
venture to secure the large
amount I
needed. As to the Bible, it was at this time
hidden, and I judged it,
therefore, to be her
chief place of
deposit. Banks she utterly
distrusted.
Six months went by, and I was worse off
than ever--two months in arrears of rent,
and numerous other debts to cigar-shops and
liquor-dealers. Now and then some good job,
such as a
burglar with a cut head, helped me
for a while; but, on the whole, I was like
Slider Downeyhylle in Neal's ``Charcoal
Sketches,'' and kept going ``downer and
downer'' the more I tried not to. Something
had to be done.
It occurred to me, about this time, that if
I moved into a more
genteellocality I might
get a better class of patients, and yet keep
the best of those I now had. To do this it
was necessary to pay my rent, and the more
so because I was in a fair way to have no
house at all over my head. But here fortune
interposed. I was caught in a heavy rainstorm
on Seventh Street, and ran to catch an
omnibus. As I pulled open the door I saw
behind me the Quaker woman, Miss Barker.
I laughed and jumped in. She had to run a
little before the 'bus again stopped. She got
pretty wet. An old man in the corner, who
seemed in the way of
takingcharge of other
people's manners, said to me: ``Young man,
you ought to be
ashamed to get in before the
lady, and in this pour, too!''
I said
calmly, ``But you got in before her.''
He made no reply to this
obvious fact, as
he might have been in the bus a half-hour.
A large, well-dressed man near by said, with a
laugh, ``Rather neat, that,'' and, turning, tried
to pull up a window-sash. In the effort
something happened, and he broke the glass,
cutting his hand in half a dozen places.
While he was using several quite profane
phrases, I caught his hand and said, ``I am a
surgeon,'' and tied my
handkerchief around
the bleeding palm.
The
guardian of manners said, ``I hope you
are not much hurt, but there was no reason
why you should swear.''
On this my patient said, ``Go to ----,''
which silenced the monitor.
I explained to the wounded man that the
cuts should be looked after at once. The
matter was arranged by our leaving the 'bus,
and, as the rain had let up, walking to his
house. This was a large and quite luxurious
dwelling on Fourth street. There I cared for
his wounds, which, as I had informed him,
required immediate attention. It was at this
time summer, and his wife and niece, the
only other members of his family, were
absent. On my second visit I made believe
to remove some splinters of glass which I
brought with me. He said they showed how
shamefully thin was that omnibus window-
pane. To my surprise, my patient, at the
end of the month,--for one wound was long
in healing,--presented me with one hundred
dollars. This paid my small rental, and as
Mr. Poynter allowed me to refer to him, I
was able to get a better office and bedroom on
Spruce street. I saw no more of my patient
until winter, although I
learned that he was
a stock-broker, not in the very best repute,
but of a
well-known family.
Meanwhile my move had been of small use.
I was wise enough, however, to keep up my
connection with my former clients, and
contrived to live. It was no more than that.
One day in December I was overjoyed to see
Mr. Poynter enter. He was a fat man, very
pale, and never, to my
remembrance, without a
permanent smile. He had very civil ways, and
now at once I saw that he wanted something.
I hated the way that man saw through me.
He went on without
hesitation,
taking me
for granted. He began by
saying he had
confidence in my judgment, and when a man
says that you had better look out. He said
he had a niece who lived with him, a brother's
child; that she was out of health and ought
not to marry, which was what she meant to
do. She was scared about her health,
because she had a cough, and had lost a brother
of
consumption. I soon came to understand
that, for reasons unknown to me, my friend
did not wish his niece to marry. His wife,
he also informed me, was troubled as to the
niece's health. Now, he said, he wished to
consult me as to what he should do. I
suspected at once that he had not told me all.
I have often wondered at the skill with
which I managed this rather
delicate matter.
I knew I was not well enough known
to be of direct use, and was also too young
to have much weight. I advised him to get
Professor C.
Then my friend shook his head. He said
in reply, ``But suppose, doctor, he says there
is nothing wrong with the girl?''
Then I began to understand him.
``Oh,'' I said, ``you get a confidential
written opinion from him. You can make it what
you please when you tell her.''
He said no. It would be best for me to
ask the professor to see Miss Poynter; might
mention my youth, and so on, as a reason. I
was to get his opinion in writing.
``Well?'' said I.
``After that I want you to write me a joint
opinion to meet the case--all the needs of
the case, you see.''
I saw, but hesitated as to how much would
make it worth while to pull his hot chestnuts
out of the fire--one never knows how hot
the chestnuts are.
Then he said, ``Ever take a chance in
stocks?''
I said, ``No.''
He said that he would lend me a little
money and see what he could do with it. And
here was his
receipt from me for one thousand
dollars, and here, too, was my order to
buy shares of P. T. Y. Would I please to
Sign it? I did.
I was to call in two days at his house, and
meantime I could think it over. It seemed
to me a pretty weak plan. Suppose the
young woman--well, supposing is awfully
destructive of
enterprise; and as for me, I
had only to
misunderstand the professor's
opinion. I went to the house, and talked to
Mr. Poynter about his gout. Then Mrs. Poynter
came in, and began to
lament her niece's
declining health. After that I saw Miss
Poynter. There is a kind of innocent-looking
woman who knows no more of the world
than a young chicken, and is choke-full of
emotions. I saw it would be easy to frighten
her. There are some instruments anybody
can get any tune they like out of. I was
very grave, and advised her to see the
professor. And would I write to ask him, said
Mr. Poynter. I said I would.