CHAPTER IV.

  One day in early spring the doctor surprised his wife by asking her ifshe would like to take a drive.

  "In March? The roads are not passable yet, surely."

  But the doctor assured her that the roads were getting pretty goodexcept in spots. "I have such a long journey ahead of me today that Iwant you to ride out as far as Centerville and I can pick you up as Icome back."

  "That's seven or eight miles. I'll go. I can stop at Dr. Parkin's andchat with Mrs. Parkin till you come."

  Accordingly a few minutes later the doctor and Mary were speeding alongthrough the town which they soon left far behind them.

  About two miles out they saw a buggy down the road ahead of them whichseemed to be at a stand-still. When they drew near they found a woman atthe horses' heads with a broken strap in her hand. She was gazinghelplessly at the buggy which stood hub-deep in mud. She recognized thedoctor and called out, "Dr. Blank, if ever I needed a doctor in my life,it's now."

  "Stuck fast, eh?"

  The doctor handed the reins to his wife and got out.

  "I see--a broken single-tree. Well, I always unload when I get stuck, sothe first thing we do we'll take this big lummox out of here," he saidpicking his way to the buggy. The lummox rose to her feet with a broadgrin and permitted herself to be taken out. She was a fat girl aboutfourteen years old.

  "My! I'll bet she weighs three hundred pounds," observed the doctor whenshe was landed, which was immediately resented. Then he took thehitching-rein and tied the tug to the broken end of the single-tree;after which he went to the horses' heads and commanded them to "Comeon." They started and the next instant the vehicle was on terra firma.Mother and daughter gave the doctor warm thanks and each buggy went itsseparate way.

  Mary was looking about her. "The elms have a faint suspicion that springis coming; the willows only are quite sure of it," she said, notingtheir tender greenth which formed a soft blur of color, the only colorin all the gray landscape. No, there is a swift dash of blue, for a jayhas settled down on the top of a rail just at our travelers' right.

  Soon they were crossing a long and high bridge spanning a creek whichonly a week before had been a raging torrent; the drift, caught and heldby the trunks of the trees, and the weeds and grasses all bending in onedirection, told the story. But the waters had subsided and now lay indeep, placid pools.

  "Stop, John, quick!" commanded Mary when they were about half wayacross. The doctor obeyed wondering what could be the matter. He lookedat his wife, who was gazing down into the pool beneath.

  "I suppose I'm to stop while you count all the fish you can see."

  "I was looking at that lovely concave sky down there. See those twowhite clouds floating so serenely across the blue far, far below thetip-tops of the elm trees."

  The doctor drove relentlessly on.

  "Another mudhole," said Mary after a while, "but this time the travelerstremble on the brink and fear to launch away."

  When they came up they found a little girl standing by the side of thehorse holding up over its back a piece of the harness. She held it in avery aimless and helpless way. "See," said Mary, "she doesn't know whatto do a bit more than I should. I wonder if she can be alone."

  The doctor got out and went forward to help her and discovered a youngman sitting cozily in the carriage. He glanced at him contemptuously.

  "Your harness is broken, have you got a string?" he asked abruptly.

  "N-n-o, I haven't," said the youth feeling about his pockets.

  "Take your shoe-string. If you haven't got one I'll give you mine," andhe set his foot energetically on the hub of the wheel to unlace hisshoe.

  "Why, I've got one here, I guess," and the young man lifted a reluctantfoot. The doctor saw and understood. The little sister was to fix theharness in order to save her brother's brand new shoes from the mud.

  "You'd better fix that harness yourself, my friend, and fix it strong,"was the doctor's parting injunction as he climbed into the buggy andstarted on.

  "I don't like the looks of this slough of despond," said Mary. The nextminute the horses were floundering through it, tugging with might andmain. Now the wheels have sunk to the hubs and the horses are strainingevery muscle.

  "Merciful heaven!" gasped Mary. At last they were safely through, andthe doctor looking back said, "That is the last great blot on ourcivilization--bad roads."

  After a while there came from across the prairie the ascending,interrogative _boo-oo-m_ of a prairie chicken not far distant, whilefrom far away came the faint notes of another. And now a different note,soft, melodious and mournful is heard.

  "How far away do you think that dove is?" asked the doctor.

  "It sounds as if it might be half a mile."

  "It is right up here in this tree in the field."

  "Is it," said Mary, looking up. "Yes, I see, it's as pretty and soft asits voice. But I'm getting sunburned, John. How hot a March day canget!"

  "Only two more miles and good road all the way."

  A few minutes more and Mary was set down at Centerville, "I'll be backabout sunset," announced her husband as he drove off.

  A very pleasant-faced woman answered the knock at the door. She had ashingle in her hand and several long strips of muslin over her arm. Shesmilingly explained that she didn't often meet people at the door with ashingle but that she was standing near the door when the knock came.

  Mary, standing by the bed and removing hat and gloves, looked about her.

  "What are you doing with that shingle and all this cotton and stuff,Mrs. Parkin?" she asked.

  "Haven't you ever made a splint?"

  "A splint? No indeed, I'm not equal to that."

  "That's what I'm doing now. There's a boy with a broken arm in theoffice in the next room."

  "Oh, your husband has his office here at the house."

  "Yes, and it's a nuisance sometimes, too, but one gets used to it."

  "I'll watch you and learn something new about the work of a doctor'swife."

  "You'll learn then to have a lot of pillow slips and sheets on hand. Oldor new, Dr. Parkin just tears them up when he gets in a hurry--itdoesn't matter to him what goes."

  The doctor's wife put cotton over the whole length of the shingle andwound the strips of muslin around it; then taking a needle and threadshe stitched it securely. Mary sat in her chair watching the processwith much interest. "You have made it thicker in some places than inothers," she said.

  "Yes; that is to fit the inequalities of the arm." Mary looked at heradmiringly. "You are something of an artist," she observed.

  Just as Mrs. Parkin finished it her husband appeared in the doorway.

  "Is it done?" he asked.

  "It's just finished."

  "May I see you put it on, Doctor?" asked Mary, rising and comingforward.

  "Why, good afternoon, Mrs. Blank. I'm glad to see you out here. Yes,come right in. How's the doctor?"

  "Oh, he is well and happy--I think he expects to cut off a foot thisafternoon."

  A boy with a frightened look on his face stood in the doctor's officewith one sleeve rolled up. The doctor adjusted the fracture, thenapplied the splint while his wife held it steady until he had made itsecure. When the splint was in place and the boy had gone a messengercame to tell the doctor he was wanted six miles away.

  About half an hour afterward a little black-eyed woman came in and saidshe wanted some more medicine like the last she took.

  "The doctor's gone," said Mrs. Parkin, "and will not be back for severalhours."

  "Well, you can get it for me, can't you?"

  "Do you know the name of it?"

  "No, but I believe I could tell it if I saw it," said the patient, goingto the doctor's shelves and looking closely at the bottles and phialswith their contents of many colors. She took up a three-ounce bottle."This is like the other bottle and I believe the medicine is just thesame color. Yes, I'm sure it is," she said, holding it up to the light.Mary looked at her and
then at Mrs. Parkin.

  "I wouldn't like to risk it," said the latter lady.

  "Oh, I'm not afraid. I don't want to wait until the doctor comes and Iknow this must be like the other. It's exactly the same color."

  "My good woman," said Mary, "you _certainly_ will not risk that. Itmight kill you."

  "No, Mrs. Dawson, you must either wait till the doctor comes or comeagain," said Mrs. Parkin. The patient grumbled a little about having tomake an extra trip and took her leave.

  When the door had closed behind her Mary asked the other doctor's wifeif she often had patients like that.

  "Oh, yes. People come here when the doctor is away and either want me toprescribe for them or to prescribe for themselves."

  "You don't do it, do you?"

  "Sometimes I do, when I am perfectly sure what I am doing. Having theoffice here in the house so many years I couldn't help learning a fewthings."

  "I wouldn't prescribe for anything or anybody. I'd be afraid of killingsomebody." About an hour later Mary, looking out of the window, saw awagon stopping at the gate. It contained a man and a woman and twowell-grown girls.

  "Hello!" called the man.

  "People call you out instead of coming in. That is less trouble,"observed Mary. The doctor's wife went to the door.

  "Is Doc at home?"

  "No, he has gone to the country."

  "How soon will he be back?"

  "Not before supper time, probably."

  The man whistled, then looked at his wife and the two girls.

  "Well, Sally," he said, "I guess we'd better git out and wait fur 'im."

  "W'y, Pa, it'll be dark long before we git home, if we do."

  "I can't help that. I'm not agoin' to drive eight miles tomorry or nextday nuther."

  "If ye'd 'a started two hour ago like I wanted ye to do, maybe Doc'd 'abeen here and we c'd 'a been purty nigh home by this time."

  "Shet up! I told ye I wasn't done tradin' then."

  "It don't take _me_ all day to trade a few aigs for a jug o' m'lassesan' a plug o' terbacker."

  For answer the head of the house told his family to "jist roll out now."They rolled out and in a few minutes they had all rolled in. Mrs. Parkinmade a heroic effort not to look inhospitable which made Mary's heroiceffort not to look amused still more heroic.

  When at last the afternoon was drawing to a close Mary went out into theyard to rest. She wished John would come. Hark! There is the ring ofhorses' hoofs down the quiet road. But these are white horses, John'sare bays. She turns her head and looks into the west. Out in the meadowa giant oak-tree stands between her and the setting sun. Its upperbranches are outlined against the grey cloud which belts the entirewestern horizon, while its lower branches are sharply etched against theyellow sky beneath the grey.

  What a calm, beautiful sky it was!

  She thought of some lines she had read more than once that morning ... abit from George Eliot's Journal:

  "How lovely to look into that brilliant distance and see the ship on thehorizon seeming to sail away from the cold and dim world behind it rightinto the golden glory! I have always that sort of feeling when I look atsunset. It always seems to me that there in the west lies a land oflight and warmth and love."

  A carriage was now coming down the road at great speed. Mary saw it washer husband and went in to put on her things. In a few minutes more shewas in the buggy and they were bound for home. It was almost ten o'clockwhen they got there. The trip had been so hard on the horses that allthe spirit was taken out of them. The doctor, too, was exceedinglytired. "Forty-two miles is a long trip to make in an afternoon," hesaid.

  "I hope Jack and Maggie are not up so late."

  "It would be just like them to sit up till we came."

  The buggy stopped; the door flew open and Jack and Maggie stood framedin the doorway with the leaping yellow firelight for a background.