"Starving! Heaven of heavens! no! that is not so! it cannot be! My mother starving! oh, horrible! horrible! But, doctor, it cannot--cannot be! Why, we have two meals a day at our house!" cried the boy, almost beside himself with agitation. "Lad, there are other starvations besides the total lack of food. There are slow starvations and divers ones. Marah Rocke is starving slowly and in every way--mind, soul and body. Her body is slowly wasting from the want of proper nutriment, her heart from the want of human sympathy, her mind from the need of social intercourse. Her whole manner of life must be changed if she is to live at all." "Oh, sir, I understand you now. I feel, I feel that you speak the very truth. Something must be done. I must do something. What shall it be? Oh, advise me, sir." "I must reflect a little, Traverse," said the doctor, thoughtfully, as he drove along with very slack reins. "And, oh, how thoughtless of me! I forgot--indeed, I did, sir--when I so gladly accepted your offer for me to read with you. I forgot that if I spent every day reading in your office, my mother would sadly miss the dollar and a half a week I make by doing odd jobs in town." "But I did not forget it, boy; rest easy upon that score; and now let me reflect how we can best serve your good little mother," said the doctor; and he drove slowly and thoughtfully along for about twenty minutes before he spoke again, when he said: "Traverse, Monday is the first of the month. You shall set in with me then. Come to me, therefore, on Monday, and I think by that time I shall have thought upon some plan for your mother. In the mean time, you make as much money at jobs as you can, and also you must accept from me for her a bottle or so of port wine and a turkey or two. Tell her, if she demurs, that it is the doctor's prescription, and that, for fear of accident, he always prefers to send his own physic." "Oh, Doctor Day, if I could only thank you aright!" cried Traverse. "Pooh, pooh! nonsense! there is no time for it. Here we are at Spicer's grocery store, where I suppose you are again employed. Yes? Well, jump out, then. You can still make half a day. Mind, remember on Monday next, December 1st, you enter my office as my medical student, and by that time I shall have some plan arranged for your mother. Good-by; God bless you, lad," said the good doctor, as he drove off and left Traverse standing in the genial autumn sunshine, with his heart swelling and his eyes overflowing with excess of gratitude and happiness. CHAPTER XV. CAP'S COUNTRY CAPERS. "A willful elf--an uncle's child, That half a pet and half a pest, Was still reproved, endured, caressed, Yet never tamed, though never spoiled."