Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1877-05-12
A PERFECT CURE.

Mrs. Wildfang belonged to that class of old
lady that undergoes a marked change when the
doctor appears. She met Dr. Whitley on his
way up at the top of the stairs, barring further
progress. AS soon as she had known of his
presence in the house she had assumed the tip
toe gait and went about pulling shades down
and shutting doors. She stands now on her
toes in all expectant, hushing sort of way, head
tri1le forward and pointing forefnger sus-
pended half way between Lreast and lips
Whitley knows what is coming and breads it.
"Oh, dear doctor, said Mrs Wildfang, bend
ing good deal forward, ~ do believe my poor
Maria is going to be very sick. She hasn't eaten
anything but little chicken since luncheon,
and the poor girl is so thin | can feel her
poor, dear ribs. If you keep anything from
me, doctor, l shall never forgive you. There
seems so few of them on one side. If it is my
poor girls dear ribs that trouble her it will be
cruel if you deceive me. There seemed to be
only nine of them on her left side this very
afternoon, doctor. Oh, my poor Maria y
"Only nine !" repeated Whitley, with an odd
little smile. 'My dear Mrs. Widfang, how
many ribs do you suppose belong to woman on
one side of her? ?"
"Then, doctor, you think it is because she
has too many2 Oh, my poor girl r'
"Let me see your daughter" said Whitley,
trying to get by the old lady,"
eyes, you shall, doctor; but, dear doctor,
uOL dSh LCl lllll6CCbSdlN Iu6btlOllb. MY MuT1h
il 50 sensitive She said to me only this yery
morning 'Qh, dear mamma if the doctor
should hear of this blue spot on my left arm he
would want to see it, [ am very sure, and it
would be so awkward for me to have to show
my left arm Easy, doctor, easy. If it is her
ribs, doctor, you mustn't tell my girl to-day it
may kill her, she is so weak. Oh, my poor
dear am sure she is going to be very sick.
There were only nine, am sure, dear doctor.
II you must count them do please not look at
my poor Maria she is so sensitive"
Mrs. Wildfang led the way on tiptoe, a fore
| finger raised and pointed toward her lips.
! Whitley expected to find patient pretty well
passed away, q young life futtering to earth.
Possibly some spinal disorder, in lieu of ribs ;
and he was asking himself an honest question,
whether his bitter drug would assimilate in such
case. He was not surprised to find the room
| quite dark and closed and the usual round table
laden with bottles, spoons, cups, smelling salts
and flowers, standing near to the door to be
stumbled over. But he did indulge his odd
little smile until it WAS quite beyond control
when he beheld for patient an able bodied,
though rather gaunt maid of thirty, seated be-
| fsre sooty coal fire, nibbling iced sponge cake
and reading, or trying to see to read, Dumas.
An unusually ugly half shaved skye terrier was
in her lap. Whitley had half mind to turn
and be off ; but he rallied and called for fresh
air and sunlight. For a long ten minutes he
| let the patient pour forth tale of deep woe
and dreadful suffering many new aches that
must have been recently introduced by the
demon pain were specified; many unheard of
symptoms we're dwelt upon and there were
tears that flowed and dropped on to the nose OF
the Skye terrier. Then an artificial sounding
little cough, kind of dust or pepper cough,
without depth or dignity merely the protest OF
q palate irritated by an excess of sweets put III
end to the lamentaton and under cover of il
Whitley arose and reached the door. He look
ed back kindly at the complaining woman, 8
pleasant little smile playing on his counte.
nance, and said he believed he had heard al
and hoped that he might do her much good
Then he withdrew, requesting Mrs. Wildfang tC
follow him down stairs.
"There is nothing the matter with you
daughter Mrs. Wildfang," said DR.. Whitley
facing the old lady and cycling her sternly
"under Gods blue sky. She is sound as
silver dollar. Give her George Eliot to reat
and beef to cat. Take that dog from her, ant
she must have an aim. She is living for moth
ing, now, and it doesn't agree with her. Tw
blocks from here is a family that lie on loos
straw and dress in rags, and one pale, frail giI
of sixteen keeps Ave mouths from starvation
Let your daughter call, in an hours time, a
No. 200 Blank street; she will look differentl
at life after doing so, am sure, and feel differ
emily. Sec to it that she takes bread with hel