The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1900-01-17
THE SURGEONS
VACATION. 10
Hc Went Away Tor G Rest,
but Could Not Stop Benefit
ing Others.
BY...., 90
W. R. ROSE.
BY.....
W. R. ROSE.

@1occ1GcccccoccccoSHA
The great surgeon had come down to
Marion for rest and forgetfulness Hc
had meant to 20 where there was nei-
ther pain nor sorrow, if such an Eden
existed. and he had come to Marion.
For one thing, 1t was not on railroad;
for another. its diminutive size pre-
cluded the idea that the clanlSing
chains Of business life were about it..
1t was just lazy little hamlct-a
church. general store, score Of
struggling white houses with green
blinds, and that was I'll.
Here the surgeon meant to bury him
self for his precious four weeks out
ing. He could have gone to Europe rs
the guest Of millionaire had he said
the word. He knew he needed Marion
instead
The great surgeon had been sadly
overworlSed. All through the summer
months he had promised himself that
lie would stop and rest. 1t was late in
september before he finally started.
He felt that his iron nerves were Civ
Ing way, and one September morning
he noticed that the marvellous steadi-
ness of his good right hand was i'm
paired. He knew then that he had
enough.
He went away with all the precau-
tions of defaulter. He left no ad-
dress. He desired no mail. no tele-
grams, to follow him. For o month he
meant to drop his professional exist
ence. he picked out his destination at
haphazard from the big map on his Of
ice wall. He was Influenced, as has
been said. by the fact that the little
village was Off the line of travel. He
bought his ticket for a point beyond
the railway town that was Marion's
nearest connection and then doubled
back.
"And now" he said. as he alighted,
valise IN hand. from the mail stage
that brought him over, "here's m end
to the surgeon shop. For month Pm
somebody else. somebody who knows
no more OF struggling with human all
ments than he does of throttling Tbra-
elan gladiators."
he hadn't even brought profession
Al card with him.
A half hour later he was comfortably
lodged in the upper front room Of the
Widow Gilette's cozy cottage, with q
wonderful view Of smiling hillsldes
and tinted woods and blue and white
sky from its extremely clean windows.
he had told the widow that his name
was Thomas Brown and that he was a
worn out travelling man who had come
to Marion for rest and quiet. Where
was ne from? From Braceville, and
he named the railway town to which
he had purchased his ticket when he
ran away from the big city.
Much sickness in Braceville?" In
quired the widow.
The surgeon shuddered.
II don't know" he said shortly and,
taking his hat. went out for stroll.
AS he passed down the maple powered
highway beyond the row Of houses,
kicking the red and gold drifts of
leaves as he fnintly remembered doing
when he was boy In that faraway
Iowa village, he noticed lameanan ap-
preaching. The man walked with a
crutch, one Of his legs being bent stif1y
at the knee. He was q CHEEKY faced
old man in a faded blue blouse with
brass buttons.
rural affability.
"a fine morning." said the great sur
gcon, resolutely looking away from the
stiffened knee.
mot from my rheumatism's pint Of |
view" chuckled the old man.
Rheumatism, eh?" said the surgeon.
II thought it might have been O gun
shot wound" The lame man had halt |
ed, and the surgeon felt that he was |
called upon to say something.
mo. SIR" said the lame man., with !
much emphasis. ~ went thro' th' !
war without scratch. Got into II |
battles an came out ag'in sound |
as dollar. Uncle Sam don't owe me |
nothin. No. sir. Mornin." and h. |
ats ::::::so11eI uiong.
The suge0n smiled at the old mans |
vehemence. Then, ns he looked back |
at his pain cramped figure, he sighed.
Somehow the sunshine: didn't seem
quite SO bright.
he walked long enough to win a good
appetite, however, and when he return.
ed to the widows cottage found an
appetszing cold luncheon awaiting him,
with trim little rosy checked lass to
serve II. The widow hustled in present
" with yoluble excuses for. her abb
sepce. She had run over to Ezrn
Patchen's, her right hand ,ne!ghbors,
to carry glass OF quince jelly to
young Joe Patchen. just back from the
Philippines.
Poor boy" said the widow; she's
nothing but parched skin an aching
bones. Got one; o. those swamp fe-
vers fastened on him. ON az he pull-