Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1879-04-10
A PHYSICIANS STORY.

Il y
and when / commenced the prac-
tice of medicine. BY way Of
necessary Introduction to my sto-
ry, 1 must say a few words of
that time:
When M. d. was tackled to my
name l bowed to two shrines, my
profession and-my Angelina.
Her name was not Angelina, but
my wife being modest little
lady, desires she shall not be
dragged before an inquisitive
public. Lot, then, the abstract
Angelina represent the real wo-
man. / conceal my own name
for similar reasons.
OF course / had a rival. Name,
Richard Somers; age, twenty
six; general appearance, striking
and handsome; character, very
bad. l
Neither my affection for this
gentleman nor his affection for
me would have started a confla-
grafton on any river of which l
know. We disliked each other
heartily from the first. Being a
much handsomer man than my
self, he might have been a dam
gerous rival. However, he saved
me all trouble. He committed
a forgery which was discovered
sooner than he expected. He was
arrested for the offense, tried and
convicted. / was one of the
principal witnesses against him.
When the sentence was passed
upon him he requested mo-
ment's conversation with me. |
shall never forget the look of ha-
tired on his face as he hissed out
"You have ruined my love and
my life. Remember that, and
fear me-"
l am not a timid man and at
tached but little importance to
his threat. I thought it simply
the bluster of a self-defeated and
disgraced rival.
Soon after Angelina and /
were married, and as the story
books say, "lived happy ever af-
terward."
So much by way of introduc-
ton; now to my story.
We had been married little
over two years. During that
time / heard nothing of Somers.
His sentence had been compar-
atively light one-a year and six
months. After his discharge /
neither saw nor heard Of him.
For one so young ! had been
very successful as a physician.
Perhaps my success was due to
my strict attention to my prac-
tice. No matter how late, dark
or stormy might be the night, |
promptly attended to every call
to the bedside of suffering.
One night little before the
hour of retiring, the door bell
rang, and shortly after a man
entered the room where we were
sitting. He was not prepossess-
ing. His hair was short and
thick, and the general cast OF his
features villainous.
He evidently belonged to that
variety of fowl known as the
iaii-bird. Nevertheless, with
out hesitation, | put on my coat
and hat, and prepared to go with
him.
"a gentleman" he said, "has
broken his leg"
| thought it a pity that, if he
was in any way like his messen-
Ger, he hadn't broken hie' neck,
i did not tell my wife where
was going, for it was a distant
part Of the town, and III anything
but a respectable neighborhood.
/ did not wish to make the little
woman nervous.
On our. way my friend, the
iail-bird, was very uncommml-
cative, answering my inquiries
about the injured man in surly
monosyllables. lie was appar-
emily in no haste, for he walked
very slowly-more SO, ] thought,
than was consistent with the vel
fare Of my patient.
At last we arrived at our des-
tination. 1t was a very dark
looking house in a very dark lit
lie street.
My guide led me up two
: flights of stairs, that creaked OBJ
iections to our weight upon them.
In the third story we stopped be-
) fore door, which to my surprise.
my companion opened with a
key, which he took from his
pocket. Was he afraid that a
man with a broken leg would
escape? / was still more sur
prised when on entering the
room | found it entirely empty.
He motioned me to a chair, and