“Richard Dempster, our mail-carrier,” said good Parson Richards, of Flower’s Cove, “owes his life to the Doctor. Something had infected his knee. The poison spread to his hip. He wouldn’t have lived twelve hours if the Doctor hadn’t made seven incisions in his right leg with his pocket-knife to let out the poisoned blood. [Illustration: HAPPY DAYS AT THE ORPHANAGE, ST. ANTHONY.] “Once when I was travelling with him, at Pine’s Cove we found a family had left because the woman had seen a ghost. The Doctor prayed with her, and offered to go and live in the house himself to prove that she was the victim of an illusion. At Eddy’s Cove there was hard glitter ice which would have cut the dog’s paws. We thought we couldn’t go on. While we debated what to do there came a snowfall that spread the ice with a glorious soft blanket, ideal for travel. That’s just the way Providence always seems to favour the Doctor when he goes abroad. “That man never came to the parsonage and went without leaving me with the desire to do better and be better. Every single time it was the same. “Once we were on the go with the dogs and the komatik four days from St. Anthony to Cricket (Griguet). Much of the time the Doctor had to run beside the komatik. He struck out a new way, deep in snow. ‘Don’t you ever get tired, Doctor?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know that I ever was tired in my life,’ was his answer. “A day or two after that dreadful experience on the ice-pan which he described in a book, he was at Cricket, and I went to see him. He was still suffering from the effects of the frost-bite. ‘Will you come to the mass meeting of the churches tonight?’ I said. He didn’t hesitate a moment. ‘Yes—send a dog-team and I’ll come.’ He not merely came but delivered an address of an hour’s duration, and I never heard him speak with greater fervour. He seemed spiritualized by the experience through which he had so recently passed.” XIV NEEDS, BIG AND LITTLE