Oldfield: A Kentucky Tale of the Last CenturyBanks, Nancy Huston
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Oldfield: A Kentucky Tale of the Last Century
Banks, Nancy Huston
Kentucky -- Fiction
It is easy to be calm and common to be sure on starting in life's race.
And, indeed, this young fellow was better trained and equipped for the
running of it than most young men are. Feeling this intelligently, but
without undue conceit, he now threw back his broad shoulders and lifted
his proud head. The arrogance of youth takes no heed of the slight
chances that defeat great plans, no heed even of the divinity that
shapes mortal hewing. He looked absently at the red rim of the climbing
moon, and scarcely noting that, as its disk grew larger and its beams
grew brighter, a mocking-bird, at home with his beloved in one of the
giant elms, began a murmuring melody, as though he were wooing his mate
in dreams. Yet, as the paling, brightening moon arose higher and higher,
till it hung a great shield of burnished silver on night's starry wall,
the mocking-bird's song grew clearer and sweeter, till, soaring to the
moonlit heavens, it arose to a very pean of love triumphant.
XI
BODY OR SOUL
Lynn set out on his errand of mercy very early the next morning. The
eternal freshness of dawn seemed still to be lingering amid the cool
shadows of the wooded hillsides. The woods and fields alike were still
bubbling with matin song. Heavy drops of dew still hung on the blue-eyed
grass, sparkling in the sunlight like happy tears.
The doctor, however, was ready and waiting. The day's work began with
the sunrise in Oldfield, and no one in all the region round had more to
do between the rising and the setting of the sun, or indeed between its
setting and rising again, than John Alexander always had. Ah, those
village doctors of the old time! It is known in a way to all who think,
how large a part they must have had in the making of these far-off
corners of our great country, and yet the greater part can never be
known. A doctor's memory is the greatest catholic confessional of
humanity--and forever sacred. It is only the trivial, the whimsical
outer edges of the deep experiences of these old-time country doctors
that history may ever touch. Being human, they growled aloud sometimes
over these trifles, as the doctor was growling when Lynn Gordon found
him on that May morning.
A patient, a sufferer from chills and fever, which were still the
scourge of the Ohio lowlands, had come to him on the day before for
quinine. The doctor had given it to him in solution, the only form in
which it was then known to country practitioners. Quinine was a costly
medicine in those days, under the heavy tax which was removed long
afterwards through the most earnest and even impassioned efforts of a
Kentucky statesman, who, in a memorable speech, eloquently implored
Congress to keep, if it would, its tax on silks and laces and precious
stones but--for humanity's sake--to allow his constituency to have all
the free quinine that they wanted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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