For answer he went out, got into the buggy and drove rapidly back to town where he procured what he needed and in a few minutes was back. "You'd better come in this time, Mary, you'll get tired of waiting and besides I want you to see this baby. I want you to know something about what every father and mother ought to understand." They went in and the doctor took the baby up and seated himself by the chair on which stood a basin of water. The mother, with very ungracious demeanor, looked on. Mary, shocked and filled with pity, looked down into the baby's face. The inflammation in the eyes was terrible. The secretion constantly exuded and hung in great globules to the tiny lids. Never in her life had she seen anything like it. "Let me hold it for you," she said, sitting down and taking the baby in her lap. The doctor turned the little head toward him and held it gently between his knees. He took a pair of goggles from his pocket and put them over his eyes to protect them from the poison, then tenderly as any mother could have done, he bathed and cleansed the poor little eyes opening so inauspiciously upon the world. He thought as he worked of this terrible scourge of infancy, producing one-third of all the blindness in the world. He thought too, that almost all of this blindness was preventable by prompt and proper treatment. Statistics had proven these two things beyond all doubt. He thought of the earnest physicians who had labored long to have some laws enacted in regard to this stupendous evil but with little result.[1] [1] 1. Ophthalmia Neonatorum 2. There has been legislation for the prevention of blindness in the States of New York, Maine, Rhode Island and Illinois. When they were in the buggy again Mary said, "But what if the baby goes blind after all? Of course they would say that you did it with your 'strong medicine.'" "Of course they would, but that would not disturb me in the least. But it will not go blind now. I'll see to that." Soon they had left the town behind them and were fairly on their way. The soft, yet bracing, air of the April morning was delightful. The sun shone warm. Birds carolled everywhere. The buds on the oak trees were swelling, while those on the maples were bursting into red and furzy bloom. Far off to the left a tall sycamore held out white arms in welcome to the Springtime and perfect stillness lay upon the landscape. "I am so glad the long reign of winter and bad roads is ended, John, so I can get out with you again into the blessed country." "And I am glad to have good company." "Thanks for that gallant little speech. Ask me often, but I won't go every time because you might get tired of me and I'd be sure to get tired of you." "Thanks for that gracious little speech." * * * * *