A Traveller in Little ThingsHudson, W. H. (William Henry)
History
A Traveller in Little Things
Hudson, W. H. (William Henry)
Authors, English -- 19th century; English essays; Natural history -- England
replied that he should not lose all hope if--then he paused, and when
he spoke again it was to say, "I am, you see, a very young man, a
beginner in the profession, with little experience, and hardly know why
I am called here to consult with these older and wiser men; and
naturally my small voice received but little attention."
By-and-by, when they had all gone except the family doctor, he informed
the distracted parents that it was impossible to save their daughter's
life. The father cried out that he would not lose all hope and would
call in another man, whereupon old Dr. Wormwood seized his brass-headed
cane and took himself off in a huff. The young stranger was then called
in. The patient had been given arsenic with other drugs; he gave her
arsenic only, increasing the doses enormously, until she was given as
much in a day or two as would have killed a healthy person; with milk
for only nourishment. As a result, in a week or so the decline was
stayed, and in that condition, very near to dissolution, she continued
some weeks, and then slowly, imperceptibly, began to mend. But so slow
was the improvement that it went on for months before she was well. It
was a complete recovery; she had got back all her old strength and joy
in life, and went again for a ride every day with her sister.
Not very long afterwards both sisters were married, and my visits to
Cannon House ceased automatically.
Now the two White Houses are but a memory, revived for a brief period
to vanish quickly again into oblivion, a something seen long ago and
far away in another hemisphere; and they are like two white cliffs seen
in passing from the ship at the beginning of its voyage--gazed at with
a strange interest as I passed them, and as they receded from me, until
they faded from sight in the distance.
IX
DANDY A STORY OF A DOG
He was of mixed breed, and was supposed to have a strain of Dandy
Dinmont blood which gave him his name. A big ungainly animal with a
rough shaggy coat of blue-grey hair and white on his neck and clumsy
paws. He looked like a Sussex sheep-dog with legs reduced to half their
proper length. He was, when I first knew him, getting old and
increasingly deaf and dim of sight, otherwise in the best of health and
spirits, or at all events very good-tempered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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