Daily Republican., 1884-08-29
|DR. MELVIN'S VACATION,
BY BERTHA BEKTON,

80 All work and no play makes Jacl
dull boy, and the old saying will b,
true, In your case, If you do not Civ,
your II d vacation" said young DR.
Nicholson, as he looked ser ously nj
h is friend.
His friend was about his own aye,
but had been in practice much longer
and going into his office one morning.
DIR. Nicholson found him reclining upoI
the lounge with the last number of The
Medical Review in his hand, and a
look OF utter exhaustion upon his face.
II was an expression that told palmer
than words that DIR. Melvin, while civ.
ing to his patients the most profound
attention, was Eeglecting the house he
lived in.
Talk of vacations !" he exclaimed
You know very we'll the inposibility
OF such things, save at rare intervals. "
| One OF those rare intervals must
come for you soon, or your work will
DO done la this sublunary sphere" DR..
Nicholson replied, earnestly.
| Pshaw !" calculated the doctor, as
he tossed the Review upon tho table.
As TO the old saw that you Just now
quoted, do you hoe ind icAtions of dull.
ness, or apathy, cIeepiug over mo +?
Diagnose my case, il you please" and
be held out shapely white hand, and
opened his mouth To display the state
OIL his tongue.
GA the contrary, my dear fellow, |
| notice preternatural mental quickness,
clearnsas OF comprehension that can
not hold out. IL is ne.,uless 20 remind /,
| man Of your scientific Knowledge that
nervous force has a limit, and that you
are already drawing on the reserve
power that nature Slows away, some.
now AMI somewhere in the system, for
great emergencies
1t may be, for confess feeling 0 {
| unusual lassitu.e ," DR.. Melvin an
swered, msditativeIy.
| Exactly. Now be governed by your
own common seuse, and drop business
for n month. will assume your cares
for that time. Will you go 2" aud when
DIR. Melvin had given the subject due
consideration, he decided to profit by
his irieud's al Twice, and accept the offer.
| He had pleasant suite of rooms in
the heart of the city his meals he took
at II noted restaurant, for wife or child
had lie none consequently, family
cares did not hinder, but the feeling
that his patients might object to his
absence. However, with d conscious
ness that he needed relaxation, he left
business, and the city, and went to a
small country town in Eastern Connec.
ticut, while DIR. Nicholson, with the
satisfaction of having given his friend
a pnnac"a more potent than drugs, wen.
his rcundsamong DIR. Melvin's patients,
nakinA al neoded explanations, and
giving 10 the ailing ones such tender
care, that they we're almost reconciled
| W the change.
A large, rambling, old fash Toned
farm house, surrounded by lofty pop
lars, and button woods, and elms, and
standing in spacious emerald -turfed
yard, where lilacs and syringas, and
peonies, Wed with each other in fra
GRANGE aud beauty; where humming
birds dipped their dainty, slender bills
into tne honeyed fio~er-cups, and song
birds tri!lcd among tho rustling leaves,
and built their nests, and reared their
young.
The open doors and windows, with
white cu' tains duttering in tho summer
breeze, were temptingly suggestive OF
| comfort inc oors, while the matronly
woman who hustled hither and thither,
ON household cares intent. gave an i'm
preston of good cheer.
Mar hy," she called, earnestly for
hit of Information just impaired by
her husband had given new drift to
her plans for the long afternoon.
She stood at the foot of the stairs,
and the answer, clear and silvery In
tone, came floating down the passage
"Weil, Aunt Charity % with slight
interrogative infection.
80 lamar ri 10
whole month, and he is coming to-
night. He will want supper, 30 you
| must come down and do some extra
cooking. ] want a loaf OF sponge cake,
and fruit cake, and cookies and dough
nutn, too, if there is time !" and Martha
Weston, as she lay on the little louoge
i'll herown room, where she had dropped
down YEARLY, after her work was done,
heard the extra demand, and uttering a
sigh, she arose and went slowly dow
stairs.
A boarder coming; more work, more
weariness and she had thought it i'm
possible to do more.
Martha Weston war in no way rea-
ted to the Ruskins, but when, ut her
mothers death, she had been lett home-
less, they had offered her place In tie
old farm house. She might work
enough to pay her board; how much
that required, had never been decided.
or, at least, no limit had been set, and
gradually one task after another Ind
been given her, until the CRATER portion
of the household work devolyed upon
her; and yet, no further remuneration
than what she ate aud drank WAS offer
ed. Martha knew well that she was saw
ing them a servants labor, but size said
nothing.
They had given Der a home when she
had none; shs owed them, surely, q debt
Of gratitude, and she would wait.
But her life of toll was making sad
inroads upon her health.
Delicately reared and unused to heavy
nbor, her strength was insufficient for
the scrubbing and securing which Mrs
Ruskin deemed Indispensable ;and how
much she longed for books and music,
recreations that had once seemed a part
of her life and being.
Sometimes she sung softly as she
worked but Mrs. Ruskin had horror
of any music save hymn tunes, and
Martha Weston had passionate love
for old Scotch songs and ballads, but she
rarely INDUCED in them, save in Mrs.
Ruskin's absence.
Then the old house would re.echO
with her warbling, and it made tot
more lightsome.
But the darkest hour is just before
day, and though she knew It not, as she
dragged through the fervid afternoon,
and baked the delicious cakes that Mrs.
Ruskin desired, and felt the while that
she should fall to the floor from sheer
exhaustion, even then was at hand the
dawning of a brighter, happier exist
ence.
Toward the close of the afternoon
came the new boarder, q tall, slender