Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-07-24
LUCK GOOD AND BAD.

A Young Physician Lost Four of His First
Eight Patients, but the Ninth Brought
Prosperity - Premonitions of Danger
Didn't Go in the Balloon.
In the last days of his life Lamartine, the
French poet and statesman, lived in the
Bois de Boulogne near Paris, in a little
house given him by the nation. Though
much tormented by creditors, he lived in
comparative comfort, says the Youths Com
f,duion surrounded by five or six grey.
hounds to which he was greatly attached,
and cultivating roses, cabbages and little
literature. His favorite greyhound was a
particularly slender and graceful one named
Mademoiselle Fnette. The care of her was
the first duty of his servants, who were per-
mitted to speak of and to her only in the
formal third person.
One day, during fearful rain storm,
MademoiseIle Finette was taken very i'll.
Lamartine called maid, who happened to
be green" young girl, fresh from Ber-
gundy.
Run and fetch a veterinary surgeon in
stantly," he commanded; "Mademoiselle
Finette is very illr'
The girl started of and began inquiring
for the nearest doctor. She was referred to
DR.. Ike, young physician who had lately
established himself in the neighborhood.
ii
eight had quickly passed beyond the reach
of medical attendance.
"Who wants me such day as this?" said
Doctor Ike, sharply, as the girl rung his bell.
"Oh, it's Monsieur de Lamartine, sir" she
said, ''and you must come right off; Made
moiselle Ffnette is very ILL.,"
Lamarttne! The young doctor was in a
furry. In spite of the weather, he put on
his best frockcoat, his most resplendent
necktie and his handsomest pair Of gloves,
and hastened to Lamartine's cottage. What
an opportunity! Physician to the family of
Lamartine: for-he said to himself-Made-
moiselle Finette is evidently one of the great
mans immediate family; niece, perhaps.
Rushing up in cab, the doctor found La
martine's gate open, and the poet himself
standing near it, under big umbrella.
81 have been waiting for you, sir" said the
poet, with cruel impatience. You have
come none too soon. Mademoiselle Finette
"How old is she?" asked the doctor, tdget-
ting timidly.
Three years."
"Only yearsl Do you think it is the Group,
Monsieur de Lamartine7''
"The croup2 Oh, think not; but here we
are"
Lamartine tiptoed into darkened cham
Der, the young doctor following him, i'm
pressed and solemn, toward a curtained
bed.
Here is our little sufferer" said the great
man, with a deep, poetic sigh. "You shall
see if had not ample cause to call you in
haste"
He lifted the silk curtain, and there, curled
up and shivering on a satin coverlet, lay the
greyhound.
"Whatl" exclaimed the doctor, "it's a
dog! Is Mademoiselle Finette greyhound,
sir?"
Certainly" said Lamartine, "but what's
the matter with you, sir?''
lin not veterinary surgeon!" said
DR.. Ike.
what are you, then?"
81 am physician, Monsieur de Lamar
tine"
The poet was in fresh alarm, though he
could not quite help laughing at the blum
der. However, DR.. Ike volunteered to do
what he could for Mademoiselle Finette, and
his services were accepted. He treated the
dog faithfully and she recovered.
From that time the young doctor had
powerful friend. He met people of distinc-
tion at the poets house; and whenever any
one was i'll, Lamartine exclaimed:
why don't they try Dr.. Ike? He cured
Fine tte."