THE DOCTOR'S BILL.
IT was not till some weeks later that the Doctor consented to explain
what he meant by his remark. Then rubbing his hands, which was a habit
when he was much pleased, he said:
"Crawson came to me one day and asked for my bill. He took out his
pocket-book, and urged that he had a little money by him; and it would
be more convenient to settle at once."
"'You don't owe me a cent,' I answered, a good deal astonished, 'though
I wish you did.'"
"'I mean for your attendance on little Jimmy Dodge. You know it was I
called you, and—and—there, it's no use to mince matters, Doctor. You
know it belongs to me to pay it.'"
"'But I haven't given up the case yet,' I said. I couldn't help
laughing, it was so odd for the man to be urging his hard-earned money
upon me. Upon my word I told him such a thing don't often happen to a
Doctor."
"He didn't laugh, though. He drew out a roll of bills and laid them
on the table. 'I want you to go on, of course,' he said, 'till he's
entirely well. If there isn't enough I'll bring more; and, Doctor, when
you want any fish, you've only to say so.'"
"Now," exclaimed the Doctor, bringing his hand down on the table,
"That man has a heart which I never gave him credit for. 'Twas worth a
hundred dollars to me to see his face as he went off leaving his roll
of X's on my table."
"But, Doctor," began Mr. Dodge, his face flushing:
"Don't you interrupt, you haven't heard the rest of the story. I had
a little business at the bank; and I found out that Crawson had three
hundred dollars there which he'd been gathering by the sale of his
fish. One third of the whole he'd drawn out; and this was just the sum
he brought me, when, goodness knows, if I'd made a bill it wouldn't
have been a quarter of it."
"Now friend Dodge, in my place what would you have done?" The good
Doctor's eye had a curious twinkle in it.
"I should have put the hundred dollars in the bank again, and sent my
bill to the father of the child who was hurt."
"Just what I did," exclaimed the good man, his face fairly shining.
"Crawson has his three hundred in the county bank all secure, and I've
brought my little account of attendance to you. I've had a good deal of
pay out of the job already one way and another. Remember that when you
look it over, and don't grumble at the amount."
"That I'm sure I shall not do," said Mr. Dodge. "You have been the
means under God of raising my dear Jimmy from the borders of the grave.
If you'll wait a minute I'll cash it at once."
"No! oh, no! I can't be bothered with money to-day. I must be off to
see widow Stephens' sprained ancle. Good morning, sir."
When he was out of sight, Mr. Dodge looked at the bill. The paper was
only a receipt in full for medicine and medical attendance up to the
present date.
It was no wonder that he went into the house rather excited. The
conversation had taken place while the Doctor sat in his buggy, and the
farmer stood near his barn.
Jimmy was sitting up in bed with a napkin pinned around his neck, his
eyes looking unnaturally large on account of his thin cheeks, but
otherwise better than he had done since the accident.
"Oh, this does taste so good, father!" exclaimed the boy smacking his
lips with a keen relish. "Toasted bread and pure cream, no fooling!"
"I think he gains strength every day on this diet," said his mother
laughing; "but what has happened?" noticing her husband's flushed face.
Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Dodge had ever referred to Daniel Crawson since he
was brought home, though Jimmy had confessed with bitter tears, his own
wicked conduct. The father took a seat by the bed, thinking this would
be a good opportunity to test his son's feeling toward the one who had
so severely injured him.
"You are almost well now, Jimmy," he began; "but as the vacation
commences so soon I don't think it will be best for you to go again
till fall."
"I'm so sorry, father, I shall be behind all my classes." Jimmy sighed
and then added softly: "I'm almost glad I was hurt though."
"Why, Jimmy!"
"Yes, father, mother knows all about it. I was getting to be a very
wicked boy. When I told the first lie to Ellen, after Ralph came, I was
awfully afraid: I tried to make believe it wasn't a lie; but all the
time I knew it was, because I'd made Ellen think I was at school. I
didn't pray to God that night 'cause I knew that He had heard me; and
I was afraid to promise Him that I wouldn't tell any more. You see I
had to make an excuse to the teacher. I missed almost all my lessons;
and when Miss Reynolds called me up, and looked so kindly right into my
eyes, and asked, 'where is my good, studious Jimmy Dodge?' I had to try
hard to keep from crying. Oh, father, I know now that wicked boys who
tell lies and deceive their parents can't be happy!"
"But you went again, my son." The father's voice was very sad.
"Yes, father; but I was sorry all the time. I knew you wouldn't like me
to be with a boy who swears, and tells lies, and gets angry. While I
was in the boat, I resolved that I would take my lilies and come right
home, and tell mother all about it, and ask God to help me be a good
boy. I never knew whether Daniel gave me any lilies."
"Would you like to see Daniel and ask him about it?"
"Oh no, sir, I don't care about them now! We were going to sell them
for a cent apiece. I suppose he sold his. We got ever so many."
"I don't think poor Daniel or his father thought of the lilies. They
had something else to think of."
"What was it, father?" Jimmy's large eyes were fixed eagerly on his
father's face.
"If you had died, my son, Daniel would have been a murderer."
"Did he know it?" gasped Jimmy; "Was he afraid I'd die?"
"His father came to me almost heart-broken. He supposed I should be
very angry, and that I should have his son committed to prison. He came
here of his own accord, and told me what Daniel had done, and promised
to keep guard over him that he shouldn't run away, until we could see
what the result would be.
"He came every day to inquire, though not always to the house, and told
me Daniel could scarcely eat or sleep; that he was crying all the time.
He asked me at last what I intended to do with his son?"
"Oh, father!" sobbed the sick boy. "I'm so sorry." He covered his face
and great tears rolled down his cheeks. Presently he said, "I've been
thinking a great deal about Daniel. I knew he'd be sorry; but I didn't
think he'd feel so very bad. You know I had been wicked as well as
he. I meant to write him a letter as soon as I got out of bed and ask
mother to send it. Don't you think I could write it now?"
"Your mother knows best whether you are strong enough. Mr. Crawson
confessed that if it were his son who was hit such a cruel blow, he
would have gone to the full extent of the law to have the guilty one
punished. What do you think as a Christian man I ought to have said to
him, when he asked me what I should do?"
Jimmy started up in bed in great excitement.
"Oh, I want to see Daniel," he cried, "I do! I do!"
"What for, Jimmy?"
"I would put my arms round his neck and kiss him. If he is so sorry, I
think he'd do what I wanted; and I should ask him to try with me to be
a good boy, and not to tell lies any more. Oh father! what if he should
break off playing truant, and taking his father's boat without leave,
wouldn't it be splendid?"
There was a tear in Mr. Dodge's eye as he answered:
"Yes, indeed, my son."
"I feel real strong, mother, can't I be dressed and write a letter?"
"You may rest a little while, and then take my portfolio into your lap."