Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1881-07-21
THE DOCTORS STORY.

In the year 1875 I graduated, and
began to practice medicine in country
town in Canada. 1t was a coal mining
lace, full of poor miners, and there was
several doctors there before me; but
bought out another mans practice before
ascertaining that he had none, so l had
to try and work along as best could.
In two years my patients had increased
to a respectable number, but was still
poor man, for could not exact heavy
fee from people who earned their bread
by the sweat of their brows in darkness,
and sometimes in danger.
They were poor, and the doctor who
attended them in case OF illness was
necessarily poor also. The valley in
which the town was situated was beau
tiful one; lovely farms lay in every
direction, and aged elms rose beside the
placid river that flowed through the
midst of it-peace and plenty smiled on
the beautiful scene, and happy men and
women lived and died there without
having ever seen the busy, turbulent
world outside.
The superint endent of one of the
mining companies lived near the cot
tage which l had made my home. and
he had an only child, daughter, and
as they say poor man is never prop
erly miserable till he falls in love had
to follow up my destiny by loving Lille
Hardwick.
She was lovely, that is the only excuse
I can offer for my rash devotion to her.
/ loved her the first time ever saw her
it was one Sunday, at church.
She sat beside her father, and thought
of angels all the morning instead of
listening to the sermon.
She wore a blue and white dress and
something gauzy upon her head her
hair was nut brown and rippled natu-
rally, and her complexion pure as an
infants and fresh as rose
She had large, soft brown eyes. with
long, dark lashes, and the sweetest voice
/ ever heard.
After that Sunday 1 met her ut one or
two parties, but did not dare to pay
her any marked attention, for she was
the only daughter Of a rich man, and |
was the poor, unknown doctor, strug-
Cling hard to make living.
The summer wore away. and Lille
was still a bright star at which fondly
gazed but which was also far beyond nv
reach.
fancied she cared for me, and that
kept love and hope alive, and at my
present rate of progress I might, in
about sixty years, amass sufficient ofthis
worlds goods to take wife, Certainly
the prospect was not cheering.
l attended picnic one day, and hal
the happiness to be chosen Lilies es.
cort which filed me with delight, for
We spent the afternoon together she
had volume Of poems with her, and
lay among the ferns at her feet in the
hard wood grove where more energetic
people were making fire and prepar.
ing supper, and read some of these
poems aloud to her they we're short se-
lections, and one OF them / shall never
forget. 1t was new to me and ran thus:
"Hc little knows
woman's heart, who, when the cold wind
blows
Deems II will change. Though storms may rise.
And grief may dim, and sorrow cloud her
skies,
And hopeless hours. and sunless days como on
And dark despair the gloomy future ILL
But, loving once she loves through good or ill., y
I raised my eyes to Lilies face as she
listened to the words and her look de-
lighted me.
How true that is" she said, earnest
ly, then colored, at, suppose, the ex.
preston / could not keep out Of my
face. If only dared there and then
to tell her how I loved her-but 1 had
not the courage.
That picnic lived in my memory like
one sunbeam on dark day--a streak OF
golden light shining through gloom. ]
carcely saw Lille all winter except
occasionally at church, for / was too
busy to be q regular attendant.
In the month of March terrible day
dawned over our peaceful valley. About
10 o'clock in the morning an explosion
took place in the mine of which Mr..
Hardwick was superintendent
All the men were in the mine when II