The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1874-08-15
A FIGurishing Doctor.

HE is but landscape painter as
Tennyson sings in 1.-The Lord OF bur
leigh; but once he was physician, and,
if his knowledge of medicine was equal
to his knowledge of art, he was very good
physician. He was younger then than he
is now, and he is not old, and he was
greener-greener than any spring foliage
he ever painted, and spring foliage, by the
way, is a speciality of his. City born ana
bred. he made a short summer Visit nto
the country, and, while there, heard incl
dentally of a country doctor who wished
TO sell his practice. He was hesitatlng,
was our young friend, about his final choice
of profession, having failed TO procure
any but poor patients, who could not pay,
and having also failed to paint any but poor
pictures, which would not sell. 1t was an
even thing with him whether he became
Starving artist, or remained a starving
physician, He was earning no money as
either. nor was he likely to, in the city.
Why not try the country? Its inhabitants
were honest, and supplemented, ne had
somewhere read, and what, with the neat
of the sun, and other novel pecullarlaes,
they were, he thought, more liable 10 SICK
ness than the deniZens of a crowded Guy.
Certainly the children were, for were they
not perpetually eating green fruit! Yes,
he would try the country, if, after looking
at the practice that was to be disposed OF,
he could see a living in it. He called upon
the disposing practitioner, who was put a
little older than himself-an atfable, good
natured young fellow, though rather YER
dant, he thought. The Verdant one was
| willing to g vamoose the ranche," as he re-
marked. . for, between ourselves, there is
a lady in California who is attached to me,
lTY1St
| ssBut about your practice ?'' " / won't sag
ANYTHING about it. But tomorrow,
if YOU like, say tomorrow fore
noon, I'll harness up, and you can see
for yourself. 1t is not sickly now, L
| must tell you, but it's going to be soon'
| especially among children and old folks.
| Men like you and might live forever
here. only they have no such men. Plenty
of money though. My horse remembers
the house of every patient in the neigh
/ borhood, and stops of himself at their
doors. You can jot down the number as
we Jog along, and decide whether you'll
buy me out or no. And now suppose we
adjourn to the tavern (are you stopping
there p and have something cool? I'm
thirsty, and want to smoke. Mustn3
smoke in my office, you know. Here's re- q
/ CIGAR, YOU can smoke. Try it," They
adjourned to the tavern, had something
cool, smoked. and came to an agreement
i regarding the sum to be paid for the prac
i tice, past, present. and future-especlally
the future.
The next forenoon the pair drove
Il through the town, or rather the country
doctor did, and was a considerable time
about it, so often did the noble anima
that drew the buggy stop. 'sWhy, Doc
q tor, nearly every person in the town mus
have been under your hands," remarked
. our delighted cit, keeping mental tall.
of the stoppages. ''Yes-suppose so-a
l one time or another. Get upp' 1t was
constant ''get up !" to the horse, who ap
peared to remember his masters practic
better than his master did. :
1t was purchased at once for asgoo(
!, round sum in cash, and that very after
noon the retired practitioner proceeded T.
the station, accompanied by two or thre
: acouaintances who were enjoying some
thing hugely. "Best thing out ~ said one
ssBeats all, replied another; s'eh, Doc? ?
ssTol lol, ]" he answered coolly. The trail
stopped, took him on, and went scream
: ing away with its precious freigh
; that affable, good-natured, verdan
: young person, who was going to Califo1
MIA. where he had tender alta chmentl
Days passed, and no patients. Nor
DAYS passed, and still no patientsi VIA
did it mean? Mean Pit meant that Their
: wasn no practice there The country N
d. had borrowed the herse of the milk
4 man! That's all
I" Only this, and nothing more. "-Aa
: gust Sc7Sbaerfs.