Types of Children's Literature: A Collection of the World's Best Literature for Children, For Use in Colleges, Normal Schools and Library Schools
General
Types of Children's Literature: A Collection of the World's Best Literature for Children, For Use in Colleges, Normal Schools and Library Schools
Children's literature
The operating theater 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. That 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.
Ailie stepped up on a seat, and laid herself on the table, as her
friend the surgeon told her; arranged herself, gave a rapid look at
James, shut her eyes, rested herself on me, and took my hand. The
operation was at once begun; it was necessarily slow; and chloroform--
one of God's best gifts to his suffering children--was then unknown.
The surgeon did his work. The pale face showed its pain, but was still
and silent. Rab's soul was working within him; he saw that something
strange was going on,--blood flowing from his mistress, and she
suffering; his ragged ear was up, and importunate; he growled and gave
now and then a sharp impatient yelp; he would have liked to have done
something to that man. But James had him firm, and gave him a
_glower_ from time to time, and an intimation of a possible kick;--
all the better for James, it kept his eye and his mind off Ailie.
It is over: she is dressed, steps gently and decently down from the
table, looks for James; then turning to the surgeon and the students,
she curtsies,--and in a low, clear voice, begs their pardon if she has
behaved ill. The students--all of us--wept like children; the surgeon
happed her up carefully,--and, resting on James and me, Ailie went to
her room. Rab following. We put her to bed. James took off his heavy
shoes, crammed with tackets, heel-capt and toe-capt, and put them
carefully under the table, saying, "Maister John, I'm for nane o' yer
strynge nurse bodies for Ailie. I'll be her nurse, and I'll gang aboot
on my stockin' soles as canny as pussy." And so he did; and handy and
clever, and swift and tender as any woman, was that horny-handed,
snell, peremptory little man. Everything she got he gave her: he seldom
slept; and often I saw his small shrewd eyes out of the darkness, fixed
on her. As before, they spoke little.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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