The old Doctor was sitting on the porch. "Hello!" he called cheerily,
"Come in."
"Not tonight, thank you Doctor, I can't stop," answered the younger man.
At his words the old physician left his chair and came stiffly down the
walk to the buggy. When he was quite close, with one hand grasping the
seat, Dr. Harry said in a low tone, "I'm just in from Mason's."
"Ah huh," grunted the other. Then inquiringly--"Well?"
"It's--it's pretty bad Doctor."
The old man's voice rumbled up from the depth of his chest, "Nothing to
do, eh? You know I told you it was there. Been in her family way back.
Seen it ever since she was a girl."
"Yes I knew it was of no use, of course. But you know how it is, Doctor."
The white head nodded understandingly as Dr. Harry's hand was slowly
raised to his eyes.
"Yes I know Harry. Jo take it pretty bad?"
"Couldn't do anything with, him, poor fellow, and those children, too--"
Both men were silent. Slowly the younger man took up the reins. "I just
stopped to tell you, Doctor."
"Ah huh. Well, you go home and rest. Get a good night whatever you do.
You'll have to go out again, I suppose. Call me if anything turns up;
I'm good for a little yet. You've got to get some rest, Harry, do you
hear?" he spoke roughly.
"Thank you, Doctor. I don't think I will need to disturb you, though;
everybody else is doing nicely. I can't think of anything that is likely
to call me out."
"Well, go to bed anyway.
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