Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1856-11-19

F.R
/ er than himself
He suddenly rushed to the staircase, per.
! haps nc did not wish to confess himself con-
quered. The little priest was slowly descend
! ing the stairs, supporting himself by the
balustrade.
! Monsieur rAbbe, will yOu come up agaiu'''
! The Able re-ascended the stairs
There is, perhaps, a means to save you, if
| you will allow me TO operate
I "Oh, Doctor" said the Able, relieving
, himself with some vivacity OF his cane and
hat, came to Paris for that purpose 0pe-
rate, operate, as much as you like"
"But perhaps it will be n useless attempt,
, and the operation will be long and painful D.
Operate, operate Doctor, L will endure all
that is necessary. My poor Pensioners will
be so happy"
"Well you must enter the Hotel Dieu, Sale
! Sainte Agnes. You will be quite comfortable
there, and the Sisters will not allow you TO
want for any thing. You must rest this even
| ing and to-mOrrOw-the day after"
"That is enough Doctor, [ thank YOU"
Dupuytren traced few words Oh piece Of
paper, and gave it to the priest. The Able
| soon after presented himself at the hospital
| where he was Immediately installed in a little
| bed, furnished with white coverlids. Every
body paid attention to his wants The little
| priest did not know how to thank them sUffi
| ciently.
| Two days afterwards the FIVE or six hundie
! pupils, who every day followed their master
/ round the wards Of the hospital, had scarcely
assembled when DupuYtTen arrived. lie di-
rected bis steps towards the priests bed, nd
/ followed by this imposing cortege, the opera
| ton commenced.
! Dupuytren used his knife and scissors freely.
| With his steel forceps hs sounded the bottom
| of thc wound, and took up the arteries which
| nc twisted and then tied. Then with a saw
| ne removed the dead portions of the inferior
maxilIary bone. The sponges pressed the
| wound, were every moment removed filed
with blood, which flowed very freely. The
| operation lasted twenty-five minutes. The
Able was calm and did not even knit his brow
Ii was only when deep sigh broke from all
| present, as they stood around the bed, breath
| less with fear AID attention, and when Dupuy-
tTen said to him it is all over," that the
Able turned slightly pale
| Dupuytren dressed the wound himself.
Il think all will 60 well now," said he in
a friendly tone, g have you suffered much ?"
az endeavorei to think of other things, 4"
replied the priest
In few minutes he fell asleep Dupuytren
| examined him q moment in profound silence.
He then drew the white curtains round the
| couch, and continued his visits through the
other wards of the hospital.
The priest was saved.
Every morning, when Dupuytren arrived,
By a strange infractiOn of his hatits, he pasted
the first beds and commenced his visit with
that Cf his faVOrite patient. Afterwards, when
the Able could get up aud walk a few steps,
| Dupuytren, when the Cliniuue was over
would go TO him, and make the patient take
his arm, AID suitiDg his step with that of the
cOnvalescent, they walked round the room to-
gether
To those who knew the harshness with
which Dupuytren habitualIy trestei his "a
tients, this change Of conduct was inexpli-
| cable
When the Able was in a condition to bear
the journey he took leave of the Sisters and
the Doctor, and returned to his parishioners
| Some months afterwards Dupuytren, on his
| arrival at the HOtel-Dieu, saw his patient
who had been awaiting his arrival in the Sale
Saint Agnes, advancing towards him The
| Abbe was still dressed in black, but he was
covered with dust, and the condition of his
shoes showed that he had walked A long dis
lance. lie carried under his arm a long Osier
basket Dupuytren received him in a most
cordial manner, and after assuring himself
that the operation had been attended with no
unfavOrabIe results, ne asked him wha had
| brought him to Paris
Doctor, replied the Able, "this is the
anniversary Of the day you operated on me
| could not let the 9th of May pass away
without coming to see you, and [ wished 10
bring you little present I have put in my
basket two of my best pullets, and some pears,
such as you have never seen in Paris You
must promise me you will taste them "
| Dupuytren shook him affectionatcIy by tie
| hand He invited the good old man To dine
with him-but the hbbe refused, although
with great regret, as his time was so much &C.
cupied that it was necessary he should return
| to ID. at once.
For the following two years, on the 9th of
May, Dupuytren saw the little priest arrive
with his pears and his puilets The Doctor
/ ~ pisitc N ~ ,f
About this time Dupuytren felt the first at
tacks Of that malady, before which his science,
| immense though ii was, was obliged to yield
lie left for Italy, but without any hope Of be-
ing saved by the journey, which the faculty
had persuaded him to undertake. When he
| returned 20 France, IN the month of March,
| his condition appeared to be aneliorated, but
this improvement was only temporary, and he
knew il well de saw he must die and count.
| et has moments.
lis character became more inexpensive and
moro sOmbre as he approached his fatal end
| Perhaps those last sad hOurs--that moral
solitude-that isolation which he had SO cruel
ly prepared for himself, and which placed him
face t. face with death, gave him a solemn
warning
Suddenly ho called NJ, his adopted son,
who was watching in an adjoining room.
NJ" said he, write"
"a Monsieur cure of the parish of d, near
| hemours (Selne ct Marne
MY dear Able,
The Doctor in his turn has need Of you
come quickly-perhaps you will arrive too
late.
| Your friend, - DCPUYTREN"
The little Able obeyed the summons imme
diateIy. lie remained Il long time shut up
with Dupuytren No one knows what passed
between these two, but when the Abbe lef'
the sick mans chamber, his eyes were humid,
and his features sh0ne with exultation.
The next day Dupuytren called the Arch
bishop of Paris to his bedside.
1t was the eighth of February, l5SJ.
Dupuytren was dead.
On the day of the funeral the sky since the
morning had been covered with grey clouds
A fine, continuous lain, mingled with snow,
fell upon the immense and silent crowd that
filed the Place Sainte Germaine PAuxerrois,
and the large coart attached to the g at sur
geon's house. The church of st. Eustache
could scarcely contain the cortege.
The little Able followed the procession