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."