The Junior Classics, Volume 8: Animal and Nature Stories
General
The Junior Classics, Volume 8: Animal and Nature Stories
Children's literature
You must have often observed the likeness of certain men to certain
animals, and of certain dogs to men. Now, I never looked at Rab
without thinking of the great Baptist preacher, Andrew Fuller. The
same large, heavy, menacing, combative, sombre, honest countenance,
the same deep inevitable eye, the same look--as of thunder asleep,
but ready--neither a dog nor a man to be trifled with.
Next day, my master, the surgeon, examined Ailie. There was no
doubt it must kill her, and soon. It could be removed--it might
never return--it would give her speedy relief--she should have it
done. She curtsied, looked at James, and said, "When?" "To-morrow,"
said the kind surgeon--a man of few words. She and James and Rab
and I retired. I noticed that he and she spoke a little, but seemed
to anticipate everything in each other. The following day at noon,
the students came in, hurrying up the great stair. At the first
landing-place, on a small well-known blackboard, was a bit of paper
fastened by wafers and many remains of old wafers beside it. On the
paper were the words--"An operation to-day. J. B., _Clerk_"
Up ran the youths, eager to secure good places; in they crowded,
full of interest and talk. "What's the case? Which side is it?"
Don't think them heartless; they are neither better nor worse than
you or I; they get over their professional horrors, and into their
proper work', and in them pity--as an _emotion_, ending in
itself or at best in tears and a long-drawn breath, lessens, while
pity as a _motive_, is quickened, and gains power and purpose.
It is well for poor human nature that it is so.
The operating theatre is crowded; much talk and fun, and all the
cordiality and stir of youth. The surgeon with his staff of
assistants is there. In comes Ailie; one look at her quiets and
abates the eager students. The beautiful old woman is too much for
them. They sit down, and are dumb, and gaze at her. These rough
boys feel the power of her presence. She walks in quickly, but
without haste; dressed in her mutch, her neckerchief, her white
dimity short-gown, her black bombazine petticoat, showing her white
worsted stockings and her carpet-shoes. Behind her was James with
Rab. James sat down in the distance, and took that huge and noble
head between his knees. Rab looked perplexed and dangerous; forever
cocking his ear and dropping it as fast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account