The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1901-05-18

ri ID like to be doctor, like you,
papa" said Doris.
She was sitting next to her
papa at the dinnertable, eating
an apple that he had just pared for
her. DR.. Dalton was very fond of his
little girl, and always had her with
him while he enjoyed his dessert, I'M
less, indeed, he was exceptionally
busy, at which times both Doris and
dessert were overlooked.
"Would you, my little girl?" he said,
In answer to her remark. "And why,
pray?"
"Oh, because I'd like to cure people
when they are sick. 1 don't like to be
sick myself, so, of course. I'm sorry
for people who have to be. And so
many people are fond of you, papa;
you must be the kindest doctor that
ever was. 1 often hear the poor people
speak of you when l go into their
houses with nurse. They often say,
God bless himr They mean you. you
know, papa. I'd like them to say that
about me-"
DIR. Dalton smiled. and patted the
fair head of his pet.
II know many people who are fond
of my Doris" he said.
"But that's only because I'm your
little girl, papa; it's not for anything
I do myself"
Papa looked down into the sweet.
appraised eyes, and his own grew rath-
er misty. Doris eyes reminded him SO
powerfully of another Doris, who had
been wont to sit beside him and look
at him with just such another wistful
glance, and who was now. alas! sleep
ing so quietly beneath the daisies In
the churchyard.
"You want to begin to work early,
my darling" he said, after little
silence. MISUNDERSTANDING you
are bent on being a doctor, think I
can find you ore or two patients. There
Is one upon my hands Mt present, a
gentleman, whom I will hand over to
you. I verify believe you will do him
more good chan I have aone."
"But, papa"-with puzzled frown-
"how can I cure anybody? I don't
know what things will cure sick peo-
pie. l ought to learn. oughtn't Iy
And Doris looked inclined to cry.
She thought papa must be making fun
of her, and that seemed unkind when
she was so much In earnest.
This gentleman. my dear. will not
require you to give him medicine" ex-
planned her father. HE is rather old,
and very, very sad. He has lost sil his
children. and lately he has bst his lit
tie grandchild. bonny bd OF about
your age, of whom he wa'very proud.
He lives all by himsef-by that
mean he has only sesants to look
after him. and they cannot be like
ones relations, you kSw. / think you
may be able to chez him up little;
so, If you wish. vi take you to see
him tomorrow, an leave You to make
his ACQUAINTANCE file l go my rounds.
What do you say DorisT
"oh. flteringly-"perhaps he
won't care to ave me-
eve must risk that In such a
case you nd not go again. Come.
dearie. I ought you wished to do
good. andmake people love you for
your owJsake."
$50 I ); but-but this seems little
bit bay papa. What shall say or do
for IL old gentleman
"YIr kind little heart will tell you,
Dor, when the time comes. And now
m,chick must run away to nurse, for
it's past bedtime. Goodnight, my
tughter."
Doris gravely returned her papa's
Kiss, and went upstairs, feeling rather
doubtful about her fitness for the task
In store for her. She was shy of
strangers. and almost wished she had
not spoken to her father about her
wish to adopt his profession.
"For I'm only a child" she MUIR
INJURED. with tired sigh, as she laid
her head upon her plump, frilled pill
low. "I'm only eight, and I've had no
'sperience. like papa has. Suppose the
old gentleman frowns at me, and
speaks In his throat, like old Mr.. Bar
low. IL shall be afraid"
Courage came with the morning,
however. and it was certainly treat
to'ride in papa's gig. behind that fine.
housekeeping horse. Doris did not
often accompany him. so 1t was with
feeling of intense enjoyment that she
nestled by his side. and chatted to him
In her artless fashion. By-and-by they
arrived at a large white house, sur
rounded by well-kept grounds. and
here they alighted and went up the
fight of stone steps that led to the
entrance door. Doris chung to her
fathers hand as they were admitted.
and followed a footman upstairs and
Wong wide corridor, to the door of
= room, which they entered. after be-
Ing duly announced. Doris found her.
self in a large. splendidly furnished
apartment. much grander than any of
the rooms at home; but she had barely
time to glance around before her faith
er led her up to an old. white-haired
gentleman, who was seated in an easy
chair near the fire.
Il have brought my little daughter
TO see you, Mr.. Charlton" he said, in
his CHEEKY tones. II have often prom.
ised to do so. haven't 1? She ia very
.esirous Of becoming member Of the
faculty. although she il - young