IN THE HOSPITAL.
IT seemed to Davie that he had been sleeping a very long while, and
that from time to time he had awakened to find himself in a strange
place with strange people about him. Gradually these indistinct
impressions became clearer, and he began to think that he was in a
hospital-ward—at least, it very much resembled the place to which he
had gone with his mother to see his step-father after his accident.
"That" was a hospital, Davie knew, and so he supposed was this. But how
did he get here he had no remembrance of having been brought in.
Was there nobody whom he could ask about it? He would raise himself to
see. Oh what was that—that terrible pain which took from him the power
of moving, and made him sink back upon the pillow, white to his lips,
and wet with the cold perspiration that started to his brow? Again for
a while Davie knew nothing. When next he opened his eyes he saw a kind
face smiling down upon him. He had seen it before, seen it without
thinking about it, but now it somehow seemed to Davie that it was a
face he "liked."
"There, now you're all right, but you mustn't try to move, because if
you do you will hurt yourself. We all have so much pain that we 'must'
bear that it's a pity to make it more of our own accord, isn't it?"
Davie tried to smile back an answer to the bright cheerful look that
was bent upon him.
"Please, sir, I'm in a hospital, ain't I?" he asked in a weak,
tremulous voice.
"Yes, my boy."
"What's happened to me? Was it an accident, sir?"
"Yes, you managed to get yourself run over and so they brought you here
to be made well again. But indeed you must not talk any more. Now take
this," and the doctor held a spoon to Davie's lips, "and then go to
sleep. Perhaps when you wake you'll be better and able to talk. Though
I am sure you won't, if you try to move; that's the very worst thing
you can do."
And with that the doctor walked away, leaving Davie to fall almost
immediately into a heavy sleep.
He awoke in pain, yet feeling much more like "himself" than he had
hitherto done, and he quite enjoyed the food that the nurse brought him
as soon as she saw that he was awake. Remembering the doctor's caution,
he lay still after that, not attempting to move. One of his legs was
bandaged; it felt stiff, and odd, and ached very much. What was the
matter with it, he wondered. The doctor had told him that he had been
run over, but he had no recollection of the circumstance.
Stay, though, hadn't he rushed across a street when it was full of
moving carriages? Then little by little it all returned to his memory.
The long day spent in sweeping his crossing, the few pence he had
gained, the church, the wonderful sermon he had heard, his great desire
to speak to the preacher, and the waiting for him outside the church.
Then he had seen somebody so grandly dressed that the sight took away
his thoughts from everything else, till suddenly he had recognised the
clergyman for whom he was waiting. He had darted after him, and—there
came a blank. He could remember nothing else. Then he began thinking of
his mother, and at that thought grew restless.
Opening his eyes, he met those of the doctor, who had spoken so kindly
to him a few hours previously.
"You are better now, I can see; that comes of obeying orders. Well,
what do you want to say to me?"
"Please, sir, when shall I be well enough to go away?"
"I can't say: it depends upon a good many things. You will have a great
deal to do with it yourself. Do exactly as you are told, and you'll get
well all the sooner."
The answer was vague, but the cheerful voice made it sound hopeful, and
Davie drew the conclusion that was most satisfactory to himself.
"Please, sir," he began again after a pause, "how long have I been
here?"
"Let me see. To-day is Saturday, and you came in on Wednesday. Three
days now."
"Three days," and it had seemed to him like a long sleep broken only
by short intervals of half consciousness! "Three days!" What would his
mother think! How anxious she would be about him! Perhaps, though, she
knew why he had never returned home.
A flush rose in his cheek as he asked with trembling eagerness, "Does
mother know I'm here, sir?"
"Yes, and she's been to see you."
Davie thought that he could not have heard aright.
"Been here?" he repeated in a low tone of bewilderment.
"Yes, but you were asleep at the time, and so didn't see her. She is
coming again to-morrow. Now you may ask me one more question, and I
think that must be the last for the present."
Davie thought that he had no other question to ask, then remembered
that he had, and one, too, that he wanted very much to have answered.
"Please, sir, am I hurt very much?"
"Not so much, but it might have been more," was the cheerful reply.
"Your collar bone is broken—that's why it hurt you so much when you
tried to move just now. And I am sorry to say your right leg is broken,
but I daresay you will be about again in a few weeks. As for the collar
bone, that's just nothing at all. It will be as right as ever in a week
or two."
His collar bone and his leg broken! The knowledge of the extent of his
injuries overwhelmed him with such a rush of feeling that his eyes
suddenly filled with tears, and his lips quivered so much that though
he tried hard to speak he could not utter a word.
"I thought you were a brave boy, or I should not have told you all
this," the doctor went on after a moment's pause. "Indeed, I've been
thinking a good many things about you. Wouldn't you like to know why?"
"Yes, sir," was the scarcely audible reply.
"Well, I've found out something very curious—your name is David Scott,
and so is mine. Now, isn't that odd?"
It was indeed. Davie had felt wonderfully drawn towards the good kind
man with his cheerful smiling face. But this last piece of information
made him feel that he and the doctor were quite friends. He gave him a
very bright look by way of answer.
"Ah! That's better, I 'knew' you were a brave boy. Wouldn't you like me
to call you David?"
"Nobody ever calls me that. Mother always says 'Davie,' and other
people mostly say 'Dave.'"
"Very well, then, I'll call you Davie. Now, Davie, do you know you've
actually made me break my own rule? Five minutes ago I said there was
to be no more talking, and if I haven't been chatting away to you ever
since. That's what comes of having a namesake for a patient."
He disappeared with that, and Davie was left to think over the
conversation. How strange that he and the doctor should have the same
name! People who had were generally related to each other, but the
little crossing-sweeper felt sure that this gentleman could be no
"relative" of his. And there he was right; it was merely one of those
coincidences which are so often met with in life.
Then what was that he had said about being "brave?" Evidently he
expected him to be brave. And so he would; the doctor should not be
disappointed in him. He would bear his pain patiently, and do exactly
as he was told.
His resolution was no sooner made than it had to be put into practice,
for such a paroxysm of suffering came on that it was as much as
Davie could do to keep from crying out aloud. Presently, however,
the intensity of the attack passed away, and in the exhaustion that
followed, the poor little fellow once more fell asleep.
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