My Doggie and I - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"Yes; accidents will happen, you know, to the most careful among us, Mrs Jones," said the little doctor, with a smile, as he drew on his gloves. "Good evening. Take care of your patient now; I'm much interested in her case--because of the young doctor who visits her sometimes."
"Dr Mellon?" exclaimed the woman.
"Yes. You know him?"
"Know him! I should think I do! He has great consideration for the poor. Ah! he _is_ a gentleman, is Mr Mellon!"
"He is more than a gentleman, Mrs Jones," said the little doctor with a kindly nod, as he turned and hurried away.
It may perhaps seem to savour of vanity and egotism my recording this conversation, but I do it chiefly for the purpose of showing how much of hearty grat.i.tude there is for mere trifles among the poor, for the woman who was thus complimentary to me never received a farthing of money from my hands, and I am not aware of having ever taken any notice of her, except now and then wis.h.i.+ng her a respectful good-evening, and making a few inquiries as to her health.
That night Dr McTougall came to me, on returning from his rounds, to report upon my district. I was in bed at the time, and suffering considerable pain from my bruised and swollen limb. Dumps was lying at my feet--dried, refreshed, and none the worse for his adventures. I may mention that I occupied a comfortable room in the house of the "City man," who insisted on my staying with him until I should be quite able to walk to my lodgings. As Dr McTougall had taken my district, a brief note to Mrs Miff, my landlady, relieved my mind of all anxieties, professional and domestic, so that my doggie and I could enjoy ourselves as well as the swollen leg would permit.
"My dear young friend," said the little doctor, as he entered, "your patients are all going on admirably, and as I mean to send my a.s.sistant to them regularly, you may make your mind quite easy. I've seen your old woman too, and she is charming. I don't wonder you lost your heart to her. Your young _protege_, however, was absent--the scamp!--but he had provided a good nurse to take his place in the person of Mrs Jones."
"I know her--well," said I; "she is a capital nurse. Little Slidder has, I am told, been here in your absence, but unfortunately the maid who opened the door to him would not let him see me, as I happened to be asleep at the time. However, he'll be sure to call again. But you have not told me yet how Miss Blythe is."
"Well, I've not had time to tell you," replied the doctor, with a smile.
"I'm sorry to say she is rather feverish; the excitement and exposure to the night air were a severe trial to her, for although she is naturally strong, it is not long since she recovered from a severe illness. Nothing, however, surprises me so much as the way in which my dear wife has come through it all. It seems to have given her quite a turn in the right direction. Why, she used to be as timid as a mouse!
Now she scoffs at burglars. After what occurred last night she says she will fear nothing under the sun. Isn't it odd? As for the children, I'm afraid the event has roused all that is wild and savage in their natures! They were kicking up a horrible s.h.i.+ndy when I pa.s.sed the dining-room--the hospital, as Dobson calls it--so I opened the door and peeped in. There they were, all standing up on their beds, shouting `Fire! fire! p'leece! p'leece!--engines! escapes! Come qui-i-i-ck!'
"`Silence!' I shouted.
"`Oh, papa!' they screamed, in delight, `what _do_ you think we've had for supper?'
"`Well, what?'
"`Pudding and jam-pudding and jam--nearly _all_ jam!'
"Then they burst again into a chorus of yells for engines and fire-escapes, while little Dolly's voice rang high above the rest `Pudding and dam!--_all_ dam!--p'leece! p'leece! fire and feeves!' as I shut the door.
"But now, a word in your ear before I leave you for the night. Perhaps it may not surprise you to be told that I have an extensive practice.
After getting into a new house, which I must do immediately, I shall want an a.s.sistant, who may in course of time, perhaps, become a partner.
D'you understand? Are you open to a proposal?"
"My dear sir," said I, "your kindness is very great, but you know that I am not yet--"
"Yes, yes, I know all about that. I merely wish to inject an idea into your brain, and leave it there to fructify. Go to sleep now, my dear young fellow, and let me wish you agreeable dreams."
With a warm squeeze of the hand, and a pleasant nod, my new friend said good-night, and left me to my meditations.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
LITTLE SLIDDER RESISTS TEMPTATION SUCCESSFULLY, AND I BECOME ENSLAVED.
"Pompey," said I, one afternoon, while reclining on the sofa in Dobson's drawing-room, my leg being not yet sufficiently restored to admit of my going out--"Pompey, I've got news for you."
To my surprise my doggie would not answer to that name at all when I used it, though he did so when it was used by Miss Blythe.
"Dumps!" I said, in a somewhat injured tone.
Ears and tail at once replied.
"Come now, Punch," I said, rather sternly; "I'll call you what I please--Punch, Dumps, or Pompey--because you are _my_ dog still, at least as long as your mistress and I live under the same roof; so, sir, if you take the Dumps when I call you Pompey, I'll punch your head for you."
Evidently the dog thought this a very flat jest, for he paid no attention to it whatever.
"Now, Dumps, come here and let's be friends. Who do you think is coming to stay with us--to stay altogether? You'll never guess. Your old friend and first master, little Slidder, no less. Think of that!"
Dumps wagged his tail vigorously; whether at the news, or because of pleasure at my brus.h.i.+ng the hair off his soft brown eyes, and looking into them, I cannot tell.
"Yes," I continued, "it's quite true. This fire will apparently be the making of little Slidder, as well as you and me, for we are all going to live and work together. Isn't that nice? Evidently Dr McTougall is a trump, and so is his friend Dobson, who puts this fine mansion at his disposal until another home can be got ready for us."
I was interrupted at this point by an uproarious burst of laughter from the doctor himself, who had entered by the open door un.o.bserved by me.
I joined in the laugh against myself, but blushed, nevertheless, for man does not like, as a rule, to be caught talking earnestly either to himself or to a dumb creature.
"Why, Mellon," he said, sitting down beside me, and patting my dog, "I imagined from your tones, as I entered, that you were having some serious conversation with my wife."
"No; Mrs McTougall has not yet returned from her drive. I was merely having a chat with Dumps. I had of late, in my lodgings, got into a way of thinking aloud, as it were, while talking to my dog. I suppose it was with an unconscious desire to break the silence of my room."
"No doubt, no doubt," replied the doctor, with a touch of sympathy in his tone. "You must have been rather lonely in that attic of yours.
And yet do you know, I sometimes sigh for the quiet of such an attic!
Perhaps when you've been some months under the same roof with these miniature thunderstorms, Jack, Harry, Job, Jenny, and Dolly, you'll long to go back to the attic."
A tremendous thump on the floor overhead, followed by a wild uproar, sent the doctor upstairs--three steps at a stride. I sat prudently still till he returned, which he did in a few minutes, laughing.
"What d'you think it was?" he cried, panting. "Only my Dolly tumbling off the chest of drawers. My babes have many pleasant little games.
Among others, cutting off the heads of dreadful traitors is a great favourite. They roll up a sheet into a ball for the head. Then each of them is led in turn to the scaffold, which is the top of a chest of drawers. One holds the ball against the criminal's shoulders, another cuts it off with a wooden knife, a basket receives it below, then one of them takes it out, and, holding it aloft shouts `Behold the head of a traitor!' It seems that four criminals had been safely decapitated, and Dolly was being led to the fatal block, when she slipped her foot and fell to the ground, overturning Harry and a chair in her descent. That was all."
"Not hurt, I hope?"
"Oh no! They never get hurt--seriously hurt, I mean. As to black-and-blue s.h.i.+ns, scratches, cuts, and b.u.mps, they may be said to exist in a perpetually maimed condition."
"Strange!" said I musingly, "that they should like to play at such a disagreeable subject."
"Disagreeable!" exclaimed my friend, "pooh! that's nothing. You should see them playing at the horrors of the Inquisition. My poor wife sometimes shudders at the idea that we have been gifted with five monsters of cruelty, but any one can see with half an eye that it is a fine sense of the propriety of retributive justice that influences them."
"Any one who chooses to go and look at the five innocent faces when they are asleep," said I, laughing, "can see with a _quarter_ of an eye that you and Mrs McTougall are to be congratulated on the nature of your little ones."
"Of course we are, my dear fellow," returned the doctor with enthusiasm.
"But--to change the subject--has little Slidder been here to-day?"
"Not that I know of."
"Ah! there he is" said the doctor, as, at that instant, the door-bell rang; "there is insolence in the very tone of his ring. He has pulled the visitor's bell, too, and there goes the knocker! Of all the imps that walk, a London street-boy is--" The sentence was cut short by the opening of the door and the entrance of my little _protege_. He had evidently got himself up for the occasion, for his s...o...b..ack uniform had been well brushed, his hands and face severely washed, and his hair plastered well down with soap-and-water.
"Come in, Slidder--that's your name, isn't it?" said the doctor.