The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1874-08-22
BUYING A PRACTICE,

g He is but landscape painter" as Ten
nyson sings in "The Lord of Burleigh;"
but once he was a physician, and, if his
knowledge of medicine was equal to his
knowledge of art, he was very good ply.
sician. He was younger then 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
speciality of his. City born and bred, he
made short summer visit into the coun-
try, and, while there, heard incidentally of
country doctor who wished to sell his
practice. He was hesitating, was our
young friend, about his final profession,
having failed to procure any but poor pa
tients, 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 starv-
ing 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 simple inded, he had somewhere
read, and what, with the heat of the sun,
and other novel peculiarities, they were,
he thought, more liable to sickness than
the denizens of crowded city. Certainly
the children were, for were they not per-
petually eating green fruit? Yes, he
would try the country, if, after looking
into the practice that was to be disposed
of, he could see a living in it, He called
upon the disposng practitioner, who was
but little older than hmself-an affable,
good natured young fellow, though rather
verdant he thought. The verdant one
was willing to "vamoose the rancho" as
he remarked, "for, between ourselves,
there is a lady in California who is attach
cd to me, though you wouldn't think it,
perhaps" But about your practice %
sc won't sag anything about it. But to-
morrow, if you like, say tomorrow fore
noon, I'll harness up, and you can see for
yourself. 1t is not sickly now, must tell
you, but it's going to be soon, especially
among children and old folks. Men like
they have no such men. Plenty of money
though. My horse remembers the house
of every patient in the neighborhood, 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 some-
thing cool? I'm thirsty, and want to
smoke. Mustn't smoke in my office, YOU
know. Here's cigar, you can smoke.
Try it,
They adjourned to the tavern, had some-
thing cool, smoked, and came to an agree
ment regarding the sum to be paid for the
practice, past, present, and future-espe-
cially the future
The next forenoon the pair drove through
the town, or rather the country doctor did, |
and was a considerable time about it, so
often did the noble animal that drew the |
buggy stop. "Why, doctor, nearly every
person in the town must have been under
your hands," remarked our delighted cit,
keeping mental tally of the stoppages.
les,-suppose so,-at one time or another.
Get up"' 1t was constant "get up !"
to the horse, who appeared to remember
his masters practice better than his mas.
ter did.
1t was purchased at once for a good
round sum in cash, and that very afternoon
the retired practitioner proceeded to the
station, accompanied by two or three ac-
quaintances who were enjoying something
hugely. "Best thing out - said ONE
" Beats all, i" replied another; Z" Ell, Doc. ?"
"Tol lol, he answered coolly. The train
stopped, took him on, and went screaming
away with its precious freight-that affa-
BILE, good-natured, verdant young person,
who was going to California, where he had
a tender attachment
Days passed, and no patients. More
days passed, and still no patients What
did it mean? Mean ?-it meant that there |
was no practice there The country NJ. d. |
had borrowed the horse of the tnilkman |
That's all
only this, and nothing more.''