Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1879-05-06
"TROT," HIS JOURNEY.

Concord, -, | opened my sleepy eyes
as the voice ran. through the car and
taking my carpet-blS spranS out upon
the platform OF the station. My brcf
holiday WAS over, and. with a shrug, |
prepared for my short walk through the
morning air, looking forward to the good
fire and dclciou, cupot coffee was sure
Mrs Watson WAS keeping for me.
L was a very rare event for me 70 leave
the pretty LITTLE village of Concord. My
/ father had been the onlyrc,ilent medical
man there. from the time when l was a
boi,tcrous school-boy up % the hour
when, in his professional rounds. he fell
dead with heart disease in the street,
leaving me. his heretofore assistant, sole
heir 10 his name. property, and practice.
Ten years before, they had carried my
dear mother 10 the little churchyard, and
I installed Mrs. Watson houSekeeper in her
place. The villagers were willing 70 let
the Young doctor step into his father
place beside their sick beds, and 50 for
. five years had filled his duties. In all
those five years had taken no holiday,
50 when an invitation came from my old
college friend and since correspondent,
/ Clement PAYNE, TO spend Christmas with
him. at his fathers place, ] was sorely
tempted 10 accept il, and finally con-
/ cluded 10 DO so. Il was literally Christmas
| spent. leaving home at midnight on the
twenty-tourth. and my friends house eN-
ac.ly twcntv-tour hours later. II had
been a pleasant break in the monotony Of
nv life, and as stood in the early morn
ing on the Concord station platform, |
was sure my recreation would give me
new visor for my daily duties
As | turned to descend the steps lead
/ inc to the road, some impulse led me to
| look in at the window of the room, by
courtesy, Ladies Room, Of the Station.
/ 1t was cold and desolate No fire was
| lighted, and there was no furniture, un-
| less the hard wooden benches against the
walls. could be 50 denominated. But,
curled up on one of these benches, sleep
| ing soundly, lay a strange child. His
dress spoke of wealth and care, and the
pale face, around which clustered short
curlS Of a sunny brown, was round with
/ health, and wonderfully beautiful. He
was not one of the Concord children
knew them all Ny professional instinct
made nv heart thrill with sudden
shock as | caught sight Of the pale face;
for well knew the danger of that deep
sleep In the bitter winter air How long
| had he been there was he already
dead were the questions | asked my
self, as | Strode across the room, and
lifted him in my arms. There was no
breath came from his pale lips, no throb
at the wrist, only faint flutterinS under
nv fingers as l pressed them over the ba
I bv's heart. Mantling him warmly in my
heavy cloak, ! ran down the steps, and
along the road homeward, at a pace that
would no doubt have considerably aston
ishcd my patients had any Of them been
awake at that early hour.
Allowing Mrs. Watson no time for
amazement. pressed her into service and
in what she called a jiffy we had the lit
tie form undreSsed, in my bed. and under
going the most vigorous treatment. Il
was so long before we were successful,
that my heart almost failed me; but at
last the faint heart-throbS grew stronger;
color came to the pale lips and cheeks,
and a pair of large brown eyes appeared
from under the heavily fringed lids / had
watched so anxiously.
Only look of sleepy inquiry was vis-
ible, as he stared at me; then obeying
nv order 10 drink the warm food Mrs.
/ Watson held to his lips, my little patient
closed his eyes again, and turned over to