“Hello, thar! Whar’s Doctor Sue?” I told him Dr. Wyeth was out of town for a week or two and that I was taking her practice. He looked at me comically; his face underwent some kind of contortion which I suppose was a smile, as he said: “Ye be? Wall, I vum! I don’t know just how that’ll strike Betsy. Ye--ye’re used to old wimmen? Ye’re jest a-studyin’ with Doctor Sue, I calk’late--No? Ye’re a full-fledged doctor, be ye? Wall, wall, no harm intended--I’m jest a-wonderin’ about Betsy--she’s kind o’ cantankerous.” He scratched his head and eyed me. “Wall, ye may as well come along and see what ye can make out with her.” Inquiring his name and where he lived, I said I would call as soon as my office hours were over. “I’m Uncle Bill Gilmore--live in West U----. Ye git off the car at V---- Street, and ask the fust one ye meet whar Uncle Bill lives, and he’ll tell ye. Doctor Sue’s doctored us ever sen’ she hung out her shingle. Betsy sets great store by her--don’t know how she’ll cotton to you--ye mustn’t mind if she’s a leetle peppery.” Off he went, and I, to maintain the dignity of my office hours, waited, though I could just as well have gone with him. “Betsy” “cottoned” to me all right, and thereafter they called me whenever Dr. Wyeth was out of town. During October and November, the Doctor being away, I was busy and happy--busy mostly with work which would have been hers had she been there, but with occasional patients who came to me. How the sight of my old account-book brings back those days--my struggles, hopes, exultations, and dismays, and Father’s visits! He came to the city every few weeks, and always after the greeting and home news were over would ask with assumed indifference to see the book. And I would watch him look it over--the tears often coming to his eyes as he saw evidences of a streak of good luck. And what a lively interest he took in my rehearsal of experiences and descriptions of people and incidents! Spendthrift that I am, I practised the strictest economy those days; but then, as now, I would walk miles to save a carfare; then, on occasion, suddenly launch out in some expenditure that proved how prone I was to strain at gnats and swallow camels.