The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1905-12-15
The
Old=F Fashioned
Doctor

HE majority Of the successful nov

r HE majority of the successful nov
els of the past few. years have
been character sketches of which
David Harem" and "Eben Holden"
are types. Many an otherwise gifted
writer has attempted to break into this
field without success, and the really
successful portrayers Of unique char
acter may be counted upon the fingers
of one hand. Now comes a new one
Nathaniel c. Fowler, Jr., whose genius
is as brilliant as that of Bachelor, and
who in a new novel with the unique
title Of "Gumption," published by
Small, Maynard & Co., Boston, gives
us graphic description of those in
teresting Cape Cod folk of generation
ago, and compares them with the new
generation Of to-day. In following the
PROFESSIONS of Newson New, Mr..
Fowler weaves about his characters
a most interesting tale filled with
splendid characters: characters that
live; characters that will appeal to
every reader as real. With the permits
sion Of the author and the publishers,
we reprint a chapter from this inter
esting story which depicts in graphic
way the old-time Cape Cod doctor; a
chapter which is characteristic of the
entire book.
Father was a doctor-a genuine,
hemp-seed, corn-fed country physi
clan, Of the gray-haired class Of our
oldest school. He neither wore kid
gloves nor practiced in them. His pa
tients either had to get we'll or die,
with no lettering on the way. He felt
the pulse with one hand and poured
castor oil with the other.
PUT your trust in CASTOR" was ia
theirs creed, and he lived it and adj
ministered it
Castor oil was both his diagnoser
and his curer. He gave it anyway. If
it worked, well and good; if not, he
used some other lubricant, or else ad-
ministered liberal doses Of more en-
ergetic connections. There were no
milk-and-water mixtures in his medi-
cine case.
DuL CdSIOE CdSIOI vi, Iuc
disease-seeking chaser of everything
within its reach; and by the Great
Tablespoon 1t reached about every
thing.
Dear old man, how he loved to pour
his strenuous oil into the struggling
mouths, and to watch the distorted
faces indicate its tortuous way as it
sped on, and on, and anon, pushing be-
fore it the foolhardy obstacles which
dared dispute its right of way.
Everybody said, the other doctors
not protesting, that father was the
best physician on the Cape. His fame
lodged everywhere, from the county
line to the Cape end-crook. Day by
day, his old white mare, his one-horse
chaise, and his well-flled oil-can pill
grimaged to the outlying towns, curing
as they went.
If the case was ordinary, an ordi-
nary dose of castor oil. If the case
was obstinate, more oil to smooth dis
eases path away. If the case was too
easy, still some oil, that the patient
should not forget his illness and might
be effectively fabricated against re-
lapse.
Woe to the shamming patient, the
enjoy-sickness kind, with nothing the
matter with him! Father made some
thing the matter with him, or made
him feel there was something the mat
ter with him, with relentless rapidity
Literally, father poured oil upon the
troubles of suffering humanity, and hi
poured it well.
Father was great student-when h,
wasn't oiling, he was reading some
thing; always something heavy, some
thing mighty heavy, too hsavy to b,
lifted and carried around. He read a.
miser boards; that he might have al
of it, and own it without encum
ORANGES. The dusty books on the tow
library shelves were busted by hin