Part 4 (1/2)

”By the way,” he added, ”I didn't see you when I came in last night. I hope I didn't disturb either of you. No? That's right; if I ever make a noise coming in late, shoot me at sight, please. You took the powder, Miss Blyth? and slept well? Hurrah! Well, I was going to say, I had a rather amusing time at Sh.e.l.lback.”

Sh.e.l.lback was a village some ten miles off, whither he had been summoned the evening before. Both ladies brightened up. They delighted to hear of the young doctor's experiences.

”I don't suppose you know,” Doctor Strong went on,--”no, you wouldn't be likely to,--an old man named b.u.t.ters, Ithuriel b.u.t.ters? Quaint name!

suggests 'Paradise Lost' and buns. Old Man b.u.t.ters they call him. Well, I went to see him; and I got a lesson in therapeutics, and two recipes for curing rheumatism, beside. I think I must try one of them on you, Miss Blyth.”

Miss Phoebe, who was literal, was about to a.s.sure him that she was amply satisfied with the remedies already in use; but he went on, in high enjoyment, evidently seeing almost with his bodily vision the figures he conjured up.

”It seems the old gentleman didn't want me sent for; in fact, the family had done it on the sly, being alarmed at certain symptoms new to them. I got out there, and found the old fellow sitting in his armchair, smoking his pipe; fine-looking old boy, white hair and beard, and all that. Looked me all over, and asked me what I wanted. Wife and daughter kept out of the way, evidently scared at what they had done. I went in alone. I said I had come to see him.

”'All right,' says he. 'No extra charge!' and he shut his eyes, and smoked away for dear life. Presently he opened his eyes, and looked at me again.

”'Like my looks?' he says.

”'Yes,' said I. I thought he might have returned the compliment, but he didn't; he only grunted. I waited a bit, talked of this and that; at last I said, 'How are you feeling this evening, Mr. b.u.t.ters?'

”'First-rate!' said he. 'How be you?'

”'I'm all right,' said I,' but I don't believe you are, sir. You are not the right colour at all.'

”'What colour be I? not green, I calc'late!' Then we both laughed, and felt better. I asked if I might smoke, too, and took out my pipe.

Pretty soon the old fellow began to talk.

”'My women-folks sent for you, did they? I suspicioned they had. Fact, I was slim this mornin'; took slim suddin, whilest I was milkin'.

Didn't relish my victuals, and that scairt the woman. But I took my physic, and, come afternoon, I was spryer 'n a steer agin.'

”'What is your physic, if I may ask, Mr. b.u.t.ters?'

”'Woodpile!' says the old fellow.

”'Woodpile?' said I.

”'Cord o' wood. Axe. Sweat o' the brow. Them's the best physic I know of.'

”He smoked on for a bit, and I sat and looked at him, admiring how the world was made. I don't know whether you read Kipling, Miss Vesta. I was rewarded for my patience.

”'Young feller,' said the old man, after awhile, 'how old do you s'pose I be?'

”'Seventy,' said I; and he looked it, not a day over.

”'Add fifteen to that,' says he, 'and you have it. Eighty-five year last Jenooary. You are under thirty, I reckon? Thought so! Well, I was gettin' on for sixty year old when you was born. See?'

”I did see, but I wasn't going to give in yet. 'Did you ever study medicine, Mr. b.u.t.ters?' I said.

”'Study medicine? No, sir! but I've lived with my own bones and insides till I know 'em consid'able well; and I've seen consid'able of folks, them as doctored and them as didn't. My wives doctored, all three of 'em. I buried two of 'em, and good ones, too; and, like as not, I'll bury the third. She ain't none too rugged this summer, though she ain't but seventy. But, what I say is, start well, and stay well, and don't werry. You tell your patients that, and fust thing you know you won't have any.'”

”A singularly ignorant person, this Mr. b.u.t.ters!” said Miss Phoebe.

”I don't know!” said the young doctor. ”I'm not so sure about that. I know it would be a bad thing for the medical profession if his ideas were generally taken up. Well, he went on over his pipe. I wish you could have seen him, Miss Vesta. He looked like a veritable patriarch come to life. Fancy Abraham with a T.D. pipe, and you have Ithuriel b.u.t.ters. Awfully sad for those poor old duffers not to have tobacco. I beg your pardon, Miss Blyth.

”'Yes,' said the old fellow. 'I've seen folks as doctored, and I've seen folks as fooled.'