CHAPTER IX.
One Sunday morning at the beginning of August, Mary stood in thechurch--as it chanced, in the back row--and sang with her next neighborfrom 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 approachingher at that instant from the rear and so her clear soprano rang outunfaltering 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 shesaw 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 infront of her, where she had propped it a few minutes before, with somemisgiving lest it fall to the floor during prayer, and just as thecongregation sang the last line,
"And grace will lead me home,"
she glided from the church by the side of the doctor, thankful that inthe bustle of sitting down the congregation would not notice herdeparture. They descended the steps, entered the waiting carriage andoff they sped.
"I feel guilty," said Mary, a little dazed over the swift transfer. Thedoctor 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 saidyou 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 outhere than sitting in the church." The horse switched his tail over thereins and the doctor, failing in his effort to release them, gave ventto a vigorous expletive.
"Yes, I certainly do hear some things out here that I wouldn't be apt tohear in there," she said. Then the reins being released and serenityrestored, they went on.
"Isn't that a pretty sight?" The doctor nodded his head toward twolittle girls in fresh white dresses who stood on the side-walk anxiouslywatching his approach. There was earnest interest in the blue eyes andthe black. Near the little girls stood a white-headed toddler of abouttwo years and by his side a boy seven or eight years old.
"Mr. Blank," called the blue-eyed little girl--all men with or withouttitles 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 inthe little black-eyed girl.
The boy looked down at the toddler beside him and then at the two littlegirls 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 sobad, but he jist learns _everything_ and he jist bothers me _all thetime_."
The doctor and Mary laughed with great enjoyment. "Now! what'd I tellyou!" said the boy, as he ran to pick up the toddler who at that instantfell off the sidewalk. He gave him a vigorous shake as he set him on hisfeet and a roar went up. "Don't you _git_ any baby at your house," hesaid, warningly.
"Yes, bring us one, Mr. Blank, please do, a little _bit_ of a one," saidMamie, and the black eyes pleaded too.
"Well, I'll tell you. If you'll be good and do whatever your mamma tellsyou, maybe I _will_ find a baby one of these days and if I do I'll bringit to your house." He drove on.
"If they knew what I know their little hearts would almost burst forjoy. Their father is just as anxious for a boy as they are, too," headded.
They were soon out in the open country. It was one of those lovely dayswhich sometimes come at this season of the year which seem to belong toearly autumn; neither too warm nor too cool for comfort. A soft haze layupon the landscape and over all the Sunday calm. They turned into abroad, dusty road. Mary's eyes wandered across the meadow on the rightwith its background of woods in the distance. A solitary cow stoodcontentedly in the shade of a solitary tree, while far above a vulturesailed on slumbrous wings.
The old rail fence and the blackberry briars hugging it here and therein clumps; small clusters of the golden-rod, even now a pale yellow,which by and by would glorify all the country lanes; the hazel bushesladen with their delightful promise for the autumn--Mary noted them all.They passed unchallenged those wayside sentinels, the tallmullein-stalks. The Venus Looking-Glass nodded its blue head ever sogently as the brown eyes fell upon it and then they went a little wayahead to where the blossoms of the elderberry were turning into tinyglobules of green. Mary asked the doctor if he thought the corn in thefield would ever straighten up again. A wind storm had passed over itand many of the large stalks were almost flat upon the earth. The doctoranswered cheerfully that the sun would pull it up again if Aesop wasn'ta 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 thatgate," and the doctor got out. Mary took a rein in each hand as heopened 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 andI'll drive through."
"Don't hit the gate post!" She looked at him with disdain. "I neverdrove through a gate in my life that somebody didn't yell, 'Don't hitthe 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 pullhimself into the buggy, and his laughter had hardly subsided before theydrew up to the large farm house in the field. Mary did not go in. Inabout twenty minutes the doctor came out. The door-step turned, almostcausing him to fall. "Here's a fine chance for a broken bone and some ofyou 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 bethe last one to complain about it, Doctor."
"Some people seem to think that doctors and their wives are filled withmercenary malice," said Mary laughing. "Yesterday I was walking alongwith 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 toremove banana skins from the walk."
"I believe in preventive medicine," said the doctor, "and mending brokensteps and removing banana peeling belong to it."
"Do you think it will ever be an established fact?" asked Mary as theydrove 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 wantto starve to death."
"I have to visit a patient a few miles farther on," said the doctor whenthey came out on the highway. Soon they were driving across a knoll andfields of tasseled corn lay before them. A little farther and theyentered the woods. "Ah, Mary, I would not worry about leaving church.The groves were God's first temples." After a little he said, "I wastrying to think what Beecher said about trees--it was something likethis: 'Without doubt better trees there might be than even the mostnoble and beautiful now. Perhaps God has in his thoughts much betterones than he has ever planted on this globe. They are reserved for theglorious land.'"
"See this, John!" and Mary pointed to a group of trees they werepassing, "a ring cut around every one of them!"
"Yes, the fool's idea of things is to go out and kill a tree by theroadside--often standing where it can't possibly do any harm. How oftenin my drives I have seen this and it always makes me mad."
They
drove for a while in silence, then Mary said, "Nature seems partialto gold." She had been noting the Spanish needles and Black-eyed Susanswhich starred the dusty roadside and filled the field on the left withpurest yellow, while golden-rod and wild sunflowers bloomed profusely onall sides.
"Yes, that seems to be the prevailing color in the wild-flowers of thisregion."
"That reminds me of something. A few months ago a little girl said tome, '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, quitesurprised. 'Well, I think he likes _red_ better than any color.' 'Why Idon't know, but when we look around and see the grass and the trees andthe vines growing everywhere, it seems to me that _green_ might be hisfavorite color. But what makes you think it is red?' 'Because he put_blood_ into everybody in the world.' Quite staggered by this reasoningand making an effort to keep from smiling, I said, 'But we can't seethat. If red is his favorite color why should he put it where it can'tbe seen?' The child looked at me in amazement. '_God_ can see it. He cansee clear _through_ anybody.' The little reasoner had vanquished me andI 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'sborn in him. When I was a lad every snake I killed was promptly broughtto 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. Iremember one big girl walking along barefooted; before she knew it shehad set her foot on the cold, slimy thing. The way she yelled and madethe dust fly filled my soul with a frenzy of delight. I rolled over andover in the weeds by the roadside and yelled too."
A sudden turn in the road brought the doctor and his wife face to facewith a young man and his sweetheart. Mary knew at a glance they weresweethearts. They were emerging into the highway from a grassywoods-road which led down to a little church. The young man was leadingtwo 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. Shestarted off in one direction, while he sprang on his horse and gallopedaway 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 somad 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 anotherand 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 biggate opening into the barnyard and an old man in it was evidentlywaiting for someone. He looked at Mary and she looked at him; but he didnot speak and just as she was about to say good morning, he turned andlooked in another direction. When he finally looked around it seemed toMary it would be a little awkward to bid him good morning now, so shetried to think what to say instead, by way of friendly greeting; itwould be a little embarrassing to sit facing a human being for some timewith not a word to break the constraint. But the more she cudgeled herbrain the farther away flew every idea. She might ask him if he thoughtwe were going to have a good corn crop, but it was so evident that wewere, since the crop was already made that that remark seemed inane. Thesilence was beginning to be oppressive. Her eye wandered over the yardand she noticed some peach trees near the house with some of thedelicious fruit hanging from the boughs. She remarked pleasantly, "I seethey have some peaches here." Her companion looked at her and said,"Hey?"
"I said, 'I see they have some peaches here,'" she rejoined, raising hervoice. 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 peacheshere._'"
When the old man said, "I didn't hear ye yet, mum," she leaned back inthe carriage, fanning herself vigorously, and gave it up. She hadscreamed 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 walkwith something in her hand. She came timidly through the little gate andhanded a plate of peaches up to the lady in the carriage, lookingsomewhat 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 oldman in the wagon, as a low-branched pine stood between the wagon and thehouse. And this was the way her politeness was interpreted!
The comicality of the situation was too much. She laughed merrily andexplained 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 timeto eat them. But I am very thirsty, might I have a glass of water?" Thegirl went up the walk and disappeared into the house. Mary did so wanther to come out and draw the water, dripping and cool, from the old wellyonder. She came out, went to the well, stooped and filled the glassfrom the bucket sitting inside the curb. Mary sighed. The tall girl tooka step. Then, to the watcher's delight, she threw the water out, pulledthe bucket up and emptied it into the trough, and one end of thecreaking well-sweep started downward while the other started upward. Thebucket was on its way to the cool depths and Mary grew thirstier everysecond.
The doctor appeared at the door and looked out. Then he came, case inhand, with swift strides down the walk. The gate banged behind him andhe untied the horse in hot haste, looking savagely at his wife as he didso.
"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 havetyphoid fever."
The girl started down the walk with the brimming glass. The doctorclimbed 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 afterthem 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 toreover the bridge at the foot of the hill.
"John, one of the rules of good driving is never to drive fast downhill." Her spouse answered never a word.
After a little he said, "I didn't mean to be cross, Mary, but I didn'twant 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 feverthere," she continued. "'A woman's intuitions are safe guides' but shehas to have _something_ to go on before she can _have_ intuitions."
"Hadn't you better put your ulster on, dear?" inquired the doctor insuch meaning tones, that Mary turned quickly and looked off across thefields. A Black-eyed Susan by the roadside caught the smile in her eyesand nodded its yellow head and smiled mischievously back at her. It wasa feminine flower and they understood each other.
When they had driven three or four miles Mary asked the doctor if therewas 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 answeredindulgently. They stopped, Mary took the reins and the doctor went toreconnoiter.
"Nobody at home and not a vessel of any kind in sight," he announcedcoming back. Of course her thirst was now raging.
"Maybe there's a gourd hanging inside the curb. If there is do break itloose and bring it to me heaping full."
&n
bsp; "I looked inside the curb--nothing there."
Here Mary's anxious eyes saw a glass fruit jar turned upside down on afence paling. Blessings on the woman who put it there! The doctor filledand brought it to her. After a long draught she uttered a sigh of richcontent.
"Now," she said, "I'm ready to go home."
The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife Page 10
