The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-01-21
A 2 o, n D .
A Doctors Story.

1t is more than five and twenty years
since l first set up in practice in this
part of the country, coming here q
stranger to it. Now L know every inch
of the road for miles round, rough and
wild as it is; then l often lost my way,
and it was with some difficulty in SO
sparsely-populated country that I
learned the landmarks which guide you
over the moors when bad weather oblit-
crates the track.
You remember, when we rode over the
summit OF the moor yesterday, how you
admired the distant view of the sea, and
how yon called my attention also to the
picturesque appearance of a deserted
and dismal cottage on the right Of us.
The view Of the sea is undoubtedly fine
one, and strikes me now every time ! see
1t. even after many years acquaintance
ship; but I cannot admire that cottage,
though rich groen moss and yellow
lichen have gathered upon its matched
roof, and though the purple heather
grows close to its walls. / responded to
your admiration of the view of the sea,
but said nothing about that cottage,
nor, you may remember now, did | make
any response to your fancies regarding
it. A worn and wholly obliterated sign
hangs before it; tie place had evidently
neen an inn, you said; and, as we rode
down the hill, You INDUCED in some fam
oiful speculations as to old travellers who
had sought shelter therein, and how the
wind must have beaten round il at night,
bringing strange messages from the
storm tossed sea, and soaring them with
A. J..
walls. The place looked as if il had a
story, you said, and, on my asserting,
you pressed me to tell it. L now fulfill
my PROMISE and no one can tell yor the
story OF that roadside inn with more All
thority than 1 can, for passed the most
terrible and memorable night of my life
there, and had something more to scare
me than sounds of wind or sea.
came here Immediately after passing
tho college, nearly thirty years ago,
stranger, as l have said, and was at first
assistant to DR.. Greenfield, long since
dead. who afterward took me into part
nership. The practices i'll those days WAS
not what 1t is now--for this town has
grown wonderfully of late years, as also
have some OF the surrounding hamlets-
though we had a great deal ot outside
practice beyond the ,..oOr, and even in
somo PLACES still more distant A coun-
try doctors lie is not very enviablc
one. lie does notget paid too literally,
mis- fees are small, and the gratitude he
earns with them still smaller, while the
amount Of responsibility thrown upon his
shoulders il enormous. Bear with
word or two in defense of my profession.
You 60 TO a city doctor, who examines
yon, precribes, md pockets his money,
and probably you never see him again.
you return 10 my care-your regular
medical man in the country-and if you
get well, what n wonderful man the city
doctor Is; while, if you die, am blamed
for 1t. Take another case 1t is COM
paratively easy to perform an operation
IN city. hospital, where, if you fail,
there are half a dozen men competent to
take up the knife and finish your work:
AZ is another thing to have to perform a
hurried operation with the nearest medi.
Cad man miles away, and no one TO help
you but an unqualified assistant. or per
maps dispenser, whose knowledge of
surgery Is, to say the least. painfully
rudimentary. t1''
Some few weeks after | had come hero