A Country Doctor and Selected Stories and SketchesJewett, Sarah Orne
General
A Country Doctor and Selected Stories and Sketches
Jewett, Sarah Orne
Maine -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
ambition was at work with her in her plans and studies.
She waited until he should have finished his confidence, to say a word
from her own experience, but just then they reached the farm-house and
stood together at the low door. There was a meagre show of flowers in
the little garden, which the dripping eaves had beaten and troubled in
the late rains, and one rosebush was loosely caught to the clapboards
here and there.
There did not seem to be anybody in the kitchen, into which they could
look through the open doorway, though they could hear steps and voices
from some part of the house beyond it; and it was not until they had
knocked again loudly that a woman came to answer them, looking worried
and pale.
"I never was so glad to see folks, though I don't know who you be,"
she said hurriedly. "I believe I shall have to ask you to go for help.
My man's got hurt; he managed to get home, but he's broke his
shoulder, or any ways 'tis out o' place. He was to the pasture, and
we've got some young cattle, and somehow or 'nother one he'd caught
and was meaning to lead home give a jump, and John lost his balance;
he says he can't see how 't should 'a' happened, but over he went and
got jammed against a rock before he could let go o' the rope he'd put
round the critter's neck. He's in dreadful pain so 't I couldn't leave
him, and there's nobody but me an' the baby. You'll have to go to the
next house and ask them to send; Doctor Bent's always attended of us."
"Let me see him," said Nan with decision. "Wait a minute, Mr. Gerry,
or perhaps you had better come in too," and she led the way, while the
surprised young man and the mistress of the house followed her. The
patient was a strong young fellow, who sat on the edge of the bed in
the little kitchen-bedroom, pale as ashes, and holding one elbow with
a look of complete misery, though he stopped his groans as the
strangers came in.
"Lord bless you, young man! don't wait here," he said; "tell the
doctor it may only be out o' place, but I feel as if 'twas broke."
But Nan had taken a pair of scissors from the high mantelpiece and was
making a cut in the coarse, white shirt, which was already torn and
stained by its contact with the ground, and with quick fingers and a
look of deep interest made herself sure what had happened, when she
stood still for a minute and seemed a little anxious, and all at once
entirely determined. "Just lie down on the floor a minute," she said,
and the patient with some exclamations, but no objections, obeyed.
Nan pushed the spectators into the doorway of the kitchen, and quickly
stooped and unbuttoned her right boot, and then planted her foot on
the damaged shoulder and caught up the hand and gave a quick pull, the
secret of which nobody understood; but there was an unpleasant cluck
as the bone went back into its socket, and a yell from the sufferer,
who scrambled to his feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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