The Tangled ThreadsPorter, Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman)
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The Tangled Threads
Porter, Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman)
Children's stories, American; Short stories
"Hitty," he gasped. "I've got 'em all! An' I've got ter take the whole
six medicines ter cure me!"
Even Mehitable was stirred then. For one long minute she was silent,
then she squared her shoulders, and placed her hands on her hips.
"Jason Hartsorn," she began determinedly, "this thing has gone jest as
fur as I'm goin' to stand it. Do you bundle yourself off ter Boston an'
hunt up the biggest doctor you can find. If he says somethin' ails ye, I
'll believe him, an' nuss ye ter the best of my ability; but as fur
nussin' ye through six things--an' them all ter once--I won't! So there."
Twenty-four hours later Jason faced a square-jawed, smooth-shaven man who
looked sharply into his eyes with a curt, "Well, sir?"
Jason cleared his throat.
"Well, ye see, doctor," he began, "somethin' ails me, an' I ain't quite
sure what 't is. I 've been poorly since last spring, but it's been kind
of puzzlin'. Now, fur instance: I had a pain in my knee, so I felt sure
'twas hip-disease, but it jumped ter my shoulder, so 'course then I knew
't was my liver."
The doctor made a sudden movement. He swung squarely around in his
office chair and faced Jason.
Jason was pleased--his learning had already made an impression! He
raised his chin and went on with renewed confidence.
"Ye see I was afraid my liver, or mebbe one o' my kidneys, was hardenin'
or floatin' round loose, or doin' somethin' else they had n't orter.
Lately, thar's been days, lots of 'em, when I hain't had no pain--not a
mite, an' 'course that's the worst symptom of all. Then sometimes thar's
been such shootin' pains that I kind o' worried fur fear 'twas locomotive
ataxia; but mebbe the very next day it would change so's I did n't know
but 'twas appendicitis, an' that my vermi-er-vermicelli appendix was the
trouble."
The doctor coughed--he not only coughed, but he choked, so that Jason had
to pause for a moment; but it was only for a moment.
"I 'most had diphtheria, an' pneumonia, an' smallpox this fall," he
resumed complacently; "an' thar's six other diseases that I got symptoms
of--that is, partly, you know:--'Variable appetite,' an' 'Inquietude,'
an' all that."
"Hm-m," said the doctor, slowly, his eyes averted. "Well, we'll--make an
examination. Come in here, please," he added, leading the way to an
inner room.
"Gorry!" ejaculated Jason some minutes later, when he was once more back
in his chair, "I should think you might know what ails me now--after all
that thumpin' an' poundin' an' listenin'!"
"I do," said the doctor.
"Well, 't ain't six of 'em; is it?" There was mingled hope and fear in
Jason's voice. If it were six--he could see Hitty's face!
"Any physicians in your family?" asked the doctor, ignoring Jason's
question.
Jason shook his head.
"Hm-m," commented the doctor. "Ever been any?"
"Why, not as I know of, sir," murmured Jason wonderingly.
"No? Where did you get them, then,--those medical books?"
Jason stared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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