The writer is acquainted with a young physician, who read medicine with an
old doctor, named Gitchel, or Twichel, of Portland, and commenced practice
in his native village,--a great mistake for any practitioner to make,--and
where he met with consequences natural to even a prophet, opposition and
scandal. By some mistake, or, as his opponents charged, mal-practice, he
lost a patient. Being, a few days later, in a shop in the next village, he
was secretly informed that the "hounds of the law were after him--even at
the next door, that very moment." Terrified beyond necessity, he caught up
his medicine chest, and, climbing out of the back window, fled to the
woods. In the village, at home, he had courted a lovely young girl, with
whom he had exchanged vows. She knew the talk that was going on
respecting the young doctor, but she believed it not, or, believing,
clung the firmer to her pledges.
[Illustration: FLIGHT OF THE DOCTOR.]
"After night fell I left the woods, and took to the highway. To go home I
was afraid. O, had I but braved the doctors, and defied the lawyers, all
would have been well," he told me afterwards. "But I had received such ill
treatment, been scandalized so severely, that I was cowed to the earth. I
knew not if my life, my Angie, had also turned against me, when the news
was spread that I had tacitly admitted my crime by fleeing.
"I went to W., hundreds of miles away. I took a new name, and put out my
shingle. I was at once patronized, and soon extensively; but I was morose
and unhappy. I was offered a home and a wife. I had as good as a wife away
in my far-off home; I was bound to her, and I _loved_ her as I _hated my
own soul_! I dared not write to her, nor go to her. 'O, my God, what shall
I do?' I cried, in my misery. He did not hear me, and I came to believe
that _He was not_!
"Thus a whole year wore away, and I had not heard from home. Finally, I
determined to make an attempt to see my Angie. I had, after going to W.,
allowed my heavy beard to go uncropped, which I had never done at home. I
wore no clothes that I brought away with me from home. I purchased a few
knickknacks, put on a slouched hat, and appeared in my native village as a
peddler. Unless my voice betrayed me, I had no fears of detection. To
prevent this mishap I kept a silver coin in my mouth when talking.
"I had called at several houses, but could learn nothing of my betrothed,
without fear of exciting suspicion by too close inquiries. I therefore,
unable longer to stand the suspense, entered her father's house. She and
her mother only were at home. I could scarcely suppress my feelings as I
beheld her, the idol of my heart. When I spoke, she started to her feet,
and with staring countenance gazed fixedly upon me. Then she fell back
into her chair.
[Illustration: FLIGHT OF THE LOVERS.]
[Illustration: THE LOVER AS A PEDDLER.]
"My God, she did not know me.
"The mother noticed how pale the girl looked, and proposed to get her a
drink of water from the porch.
"'No, no, I am not faint.'
"'Yes, yes,' I articulated, with the coin in my mouth; 'get her some
water.'
"Away went the old lady, and, dropping my basket and spitting out the
coin, I cried, 'Angie, Angie, bless you, my darling,' and fell kneeling at
her feet.
"'O, Charley, it is you,--the Lord be praised!--come at last.'
"I sprang to my feet. There was time to say no more. The mother returned
and looked wistfully about.
"'I thought I heard some one saying, "Charley, Charley,"' she said,
presenting the water to Angie, who was now flushed and excited. I was
searching for my coin.
"'O, the water is warm. Mother, dear, do go to the well in the yard, and
get some fresh; and look to see if there is anybody outside calling.' And
away went the old lady.
"'Now, Charley, what brought you back? And why did you stay? And--'
"'Wait, wait. Number nine boots brought me. I've come for you, Angie.'
"'You will be arrested if you are seen here, I am afraid,' she said.
"'Then meet me to-night at ---- Crossing, and fly with me.'
"I then told her how I had lived, how I had suffered, and how much I loved
her; and she consented to marry me, and secretly go away with me. But the
difficulty now lay in getting a lawful man to marry us. The license could
be bought; I was certain of that. So I went away and obtained it. I next
hired a horse and carriage, and paid for it in advance, to go twelve
miles.
"'Aren't you Charley ----?' asked the stable man, eying me sharply, as I
was about to drive away to get Angie, that night.
"'Take this,'--and I gave him a gold piece,--'and ask no questions, nor
answer any, till you see your horse and carriage safely back,' was my
reply.
"As we drove out of the village, I heard wagon wheels far behind us.
Reaching the woods, I drove into a wood road, and the 'hounds of the ----
doctors' rode fiercely past. Angie trembled for my safety. I reached a
cross road. The moon shone quite brightly, and, jumping from the buggy, I
soon found, by the fresh track, which road they had taken. I took a
different. So I reached a train that night, and rode till morning; arrived
at W. the next, and was married."
It was at W. that I found him first. He was smart. He had a good memory.
He was a handsome man, full six feet in his stockings. In all, his address
was not excelled by any physician with whom I have ever met. He is now an
excellent physician and surgeon, in a large city, in good practice. When
he returned on a visit to his native village, as he did last year, the
affair had blown over; for after a man is honored abroad, he may become so
at home,--seldom before. I wish him happiness and prosperity.
"There is no greater rogue than he who marries only for money; no greater
fool than he who marries only for love. I could marry any lady I like, if
I would only take the trouble," Dr. Macilvain heard an old fellow say. Of
course, nobody but a conceited old bachelor would have said that, who
needs a woman to just take some of the self-conceit out of him.