The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife

  CHAPTER III.

  One Monday evening the doctor and his wife sat chatting cosily beforethe fire. In the midst of their conversation, Mary looked up suddenly."I had a queer little experience this morning, John, I want to tell youabout it."

  "Tell ahead," said John, propping his slippered feet up on the fender.

  "Well, I got my pen and paper ready to write a letter to Mrs. E. Iwanted to write it yesterday afternoon and tell her some littlehousehold incidents just while they were taking place, as she is fond ofthe doings and sayings of boys and they are more realistic if reportedin the present tense. But I couldn't get at it yesterday afternoon. WhenI started to write it this morning it occurred to me to date the letterSunday afternoon and write it just as I would have done yesterday--so Idid. When I had got it half done or more I heard the door-bell and goingto open it I saw through the large glass--"

  Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

  The doctor went to the 'phone.

  "Yes."

  "Yes."

  "Where do you live?"

  "I'll be right down."

  He went back, hastily removed his slippers and began putting on hisshoes. Mary saw that he had clean forgotten her story. Very well. Itwouldn't take more than a minute to finish it--there would be plenty oftime while he was getting into his shoes--but if he was not enoughinterested to refer to it again she certainly would not. In a fewminutes the doctor was gone and Mary went to bed. An hour or two laterhis voice broke in upon her slumber. "Back again," he said as he settleddown upon his pillow. In a minute he exclaimed, "Say, Mary, what was therest of that story?"

  "O, don't get me roused up. I'm _so_ sleepy," she said drowsily.

  "Well, I'd like to hear it." The interest in her little story which hadnot been exhibited at the proper time was being exhibited now with avengeance. She sighed and said, "I can't think of it now--tell you inthe morning. Good night," and turned away.

  When morning came and they were both awake, the doctor again referred tothe unfinished story.

  "It's lost interest for me. It wasn't a story to start with, just alittle incident that seemed odd--"

  "Well, let's have it."

  "Well, then," said Mary, "I was writing away when the door-bell rang. Iwent to open it and saw through the glass the laundry man--"

  Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

  "Go on!" exclaimed her husband, hurriedly, "I'll wait till you finish."

  "I'll not _race_ through a story in any such John Gilpin style," saidMary, tartly. "Go, John!"

  The doctor arose and went.

  "No."

  "I think not."

  "Has she any fever?"

  "All right, I'll be down in a little bit."

  Then he went back. "Now you can finish," he said.

  "Finis is written _here_," said Mary. "Don't say story to me again!" SoMary's story remained unfinished.

  But a few days later, when she was in the buggy with her husband sherelented. "Now that the 'phone can't cut me short, John, I will finishabout the odd incident just because you wanted to know. But it will fallpretty flat now, as all things do with too many preliminary flourishes."

  "Go on," said the doctor.

  "Well, you know I told you I dated my letter back to Sunday afternoon,and was writing away when I heard the door-bell ring. As I startedtoward the door I saw the laundry man standing there. I was conscious oflooking at him in astonishment and in a dazed sort of way as I walkedacross the large room to open the door. I am sure he must have noticedthe expression on my face. When I opened the door he asked as he alwaysdoes, 'Any laundry?'"

  "'Any laundry _today_?' The words were on my tongue's end but I stoppedthem in time. You see it was really Sunday to me, so deep into thespirit of it had I got, and it was with a little shock that I came backto Monday again in time to answer the man in a rational way. And now mystory's done."

  "Not a bad one, either," said John, "I'm glad you condescended to finishit."

  * * * * *

  The doctor came home at ten o'clock and went straight to bed and tosleep. At eleven he was called.

  "What is it?" he asked gruffly.

  "It's time for Silas to take his medicine and he won't do it."

  "Won't, eh?"

  "No, he vows he won't."

  "Well, let him alone for a while and then try again."

  About one came another ring.

  "We've both been asleep, Doctor, but I've been up fifteen minutes tryingto get him to take his medicine and he won't do it. He says it's toodamned nasty and that he don't need it anyhow."

  "Tell him I say he's a mighty good farmer, but a devilish poor doctor."

  "I don't know what to do. I can't make him take it."

  "You'll have to let him alone for awhile I guess, maybe he'll change hismind after awhile."

  At three o'clock the doctor was again at the telephone.

  "Doctor, he just will _not_ take it," the voice was now quitedistressed. "I can't manage him at all."

  "You _ought_ to manage him. What's a wife for? Well, go to bed and don'tbother him or me any more tonight."

  But early next morning Silas' wife telephoned again.

  "I thought I ought to tell you that he hasn't taken it yet."

  "He'll get well anyway. Don't be a bit uneasy about _him_," said thedoctor, laughing, as he rung off.

  * * * * *

  "It's time to go, John."

  Mary was drawing on her gloves. She looked at her moveless husband as hesat before the crackling blaze in the big fireplace.

  "This is better than church," he made reply.

  "But you promised you would go tonight. Come on."

  "It isn't time yet, is it?"

  "The last bell will ring before we get there."

  "Well, let's wait till all that singing's over. That just about breaksmy back."

  Mary sat down resignedly. If they missed the singing perhaps John wouldnot look at his watch and sigh so loud during the sermon. And it mightnot be a bad idea to miss the singing for another reason. The last timeJohn had gone to church he had astonished her by sliding up beside her,taking hold of the hymn-book and singing! It happened to be his oldfavorite, "Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood."

  Of course it was lovely that he should want to sing it with her--but the_way_ he sang it! He was in the wrong key and he came out two or threesyllables behind on most of the lines, but undismayed by the suddencurtailment went boldly ahead on the next. And Mary had been muchrelieved when the hymn was ended and the book was closed. So now shewaited very patiently for her husband to make some move toward starting.By and by he got up and they went out. No sooner was the door closedbehind them than the "ting-a-ling-ling-ling" was heard. The doctor threwopen the door and went back. Mary, waiting at the threshold, heard oneside of the dialogue.

  "Yes."

  "Down where?"

  "Shake up your 'phone. I can't hear you."

  "That's better. Now what is it?"

  "Swallowed benzine, did she? How much?... That won't kill her. Give hersome warm water to drink. And give her a spoonful of mustard--anythingto produce vomiting...... She has? That's all right. Tell her to put herfinger down her throat and vomit some more..... No, I think it won't benecessary for me to come down..... You would? Well, let me hear again inthe next hour or two, and if you still want me I'll come. Good-bye."

  They walked down the street and as they drew near the office they sawthe figure of the office boy in the doorway silhouetted against thelight within. He was looking anxiously in their direction. Suddenly hedisappeared and the faint sound of a bell came to their ears. Theyquickened their pace and as they came up the boy came hurriedly to thedoor again.

  "Is that you, Doctor?" he asked, peering out.

  "Yes."

  "I told a lady at the 'phone to wait a minute, she's 'phoned twice."Mary waited at the door while her h
usband went into the office and overto the 'phone.

  "Yes. What is it?.... No. No. _No!_.... Listen to me..... Be _still_ andlisten to _me_! She's in no more danger of dying than _you_ are. Shecouldn't die if she tried..... Be still, I say, and listen to me!" Hestamped his foot mightily. Mary laughed softly to herself. "Now don'thang over her and _sympathize_ with her; that's exactly what she don'tneed. And don't let the neighbors hang around her either. Shut the wholetea-party out..... Well, tell 'em _I_ said so..... I don't care a damn_what_ they think. Your duty and mine is to do the very best we can forthat girl. Now remember..... Yes, I'll be down on the nine o'clock traintomorrow morning. Good-bye." He joined his wife at the door. "If anybodywants me, come to the church," he said, turning to the boy.

  Mary laid her hand within her husband's arm and they started on. Theymet a man who stopped and asked the doctor how soon he would be at theoffice, as he was on his way there to get some medicine.

  "I'd better go back," said the doctor and back they went. It seemed toMary that her husband might move with more celerity in fixing up themedicine. He was deliberation itself as he cut and arranged the littlesquares of paper. Still more deliberately he heaped the little mounds ofwhite powder upon them. She looked on anxiously. At last he was ready tofold them up! No, he reached for another bottle. He took out the cork,but his spatula was not in sight. Nowise disturbed, he shifted bottlesand little boxes about on the table.

  "Can't you use your knife, Doctor?" asked Mary.

  "O, I'll find it--it's around here somewhere." In a minute or two themissing spatula was discovered under a paper, and then the doctorslowly, _so_ slowly, dished out little additions to the little mounds.Then he laid the spatula up, put the cork carefully back in the bottle,turned in his chair and put two questions to the waiting man, turnedback and folded the mounds in the squares with the most painstakingcare. In spite of herself Mary fidgeted and when the powders withinstructions were delivered and the man had gone, she rose hastily."_Do_ come now before somebody else wants something."

  The singing was over and the sermon just beginning when they reached thechurch. It progressed satisfactorily to the end. The doctor usually madean important unit in producing that "brisk and lively air which a sermoninspires when it is quite finished." But tonight, a few minutes beforethe finale came, Mary saw the usher advancing down the aisle. He stoppedat their seat and bending down whispered something to the doctor, whoturned and whispered something to his wife.

  "No, I'll stay and walk home with the Rands. I see they're here," shewhispered back.

  The doctor rose and went out. "Who's at the office?" he asked, as hewalked away with the boy.

  "She's not there yet, she telephoned. I told her you was at church."

  "Did she say she couldn't wait?"

  "She said she had been at church too, but a bug flew in her ear and shehad to leave, and she guessed you'd have to leave too, because shecouldn't stand it. She said it felt _awful_."

  "Where is she?"

  "She was at a house by the Methodist church, she said, when she 'phonedto see if you was at the office. When I told her I'd get you from theother church, she said she'd be at the office by the time you gotthere."

  And she was, sitting uneasily in a big chair.

  "Doctor, I've had a flea in my ear sometimes, but this is a differentproposition. Ugh! Please get this creature out _now_. It feels as big asa bat. Ugh! It's crawling further in, hurry!"

  "Maybe we'd better wait a minute and see if it won't be like some otherthings, in at one ear and out at the other."

  "O, hurry, it'll get so far in you can't reach it."

  "Turn more to the light," commanded the doctor, and in a few seconds heheld up the offending insect.

  "O, you only got a little of it!"

  "I got it all."

  "Well, it certainly felt a million times bigger than that," and shedeparted radiantly happy.