Kitabı oku: «The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife», sayfa 6
CHAPTER X
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.
“Hello.”
“Is this the doctor?”
“It's one of 'em,” said John, recognizing the voice of a patient.
“Well, doctor, the other side of my throat is sore now!”
“Is it? Well, I told your husband it might be.”
“Why?”
“Why? Well, because I'm running short of coffee and a few things like that.”
A little laugh. “I don't want to keep you in coffee and things like that.”
“Nobody does. But the poor doctors have to live and you must contribute your share.” Laughter.
“All right, Doctor, but I don't want to have to contribute too much.”
“Don't be alarmed about your throat, Mrs. Channing. When I looked at it yesterday, I saw indications that the other side might be affected, but it will soon be well.”
“That sounds better. Thank you, good-bye.” When he came back to the table his wife said, “John, I shouldn't think you'd say things like that to people.”
“Why?”
“Well, they might believe 'em.” The doctor laughed, swallowed his cup of tea and departed.
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Three times.
“Hello.”
“Is Dr. Blank at home?”
“He has just this minute left for the office. 'Phone him there in two minutes and you will get him.”
Mary went back, took two bites and when the third was suspended on her fork the 'phone rang.
“Somebody else,” she thought, laying the fork down and rising.
“Oh! I've got you again, Mrs. Blank. You said to ring in two minutes and I'd get the doctor.”
“But you didn't wait one minute.”
“It seemed lots longer. All right, I'll wait.”
“People expect a doctor to get there in less than no time,” thought Mary. “John walks so fast I felt safe in telling her to 'phone him in two minutes.”
Buzz-z-z-z-z, as if all the machinery of the universe were let loose in her ear. She had held the receiver till her husband could reach the office so she might feel assured the anxious one had found him. Yes, that was his voice.
“Dr. Blank, you're president of the board of health, ain't ye?”
“Yes – guess so.”
“This is Jack Johnson's. There's a dead horse down here by our house an' I want you to come down here an' bury it.” Our listener heard the woman's teeth snap together.
“All right. I'll get a spade and come right along.”
“What do they take my husband for,” thought Mary.
Buzz-z-z-z at her ear again. Now it was her husband's voice saying,
“Give me number forty-five.”
In a minute a gentlemanly voice said, “Hello.”
“Is this you, Warner?”
“Yes.”
“There's a dead horse down by Jack Johnson's. Go down there and bury it.”
“All right, Doc. I'll be right along.”
A burst of laughter from the doctor was echoed by Warner. Mary knew that Warner was the newly elected alderman and she smiled as she pictured the new officer leaving his elegant home and going down to perform the obsequies. Nevertheless her heart leaned toward Jack Johnson's wife, for it was plain to be seen that neither the new president of the board of health nor the new alderman had a realizing sense of his duties.
Half an hour later three rings sounded.
“Is this Dr. Blank's office?”
“No, his residence.”
“Well, I see by the paper he's on the board of health and we want this manure-pile taken away from here.”
“Please 'phone your complaints to the doctor,” said Mary, calmly replacing the receiver and shutting off the flood.
“John's existence will be made miserable by this new honor thrust upon him,” she thought.
When he came home that evening she asked if the second complainant had found him.
“Yes, she found me all right.”
“They're going to make day hideous and night lamented, aren't they?”
“O, no. I'll just have a little fun and then send someone to look after their complaints.”
Just before bed-time the doctor was called to the 'phone.
“Doctor, this is the nurse at the hotel. What had I better do with this Polish girl's hand?”
“Doesn't it look all right?”
“Yes, it's doing fine.”
“Just let it alone, then.”
“She won't be satisfied. She thinks we ought to be doing something to it. And I've got to do something or she'll go off upstairs and wash it in dirty water.”
“Tell her not to do anything of the kind.”
“She can't understand a word I say and I don't know what to do with her. She's had the bandage off once already.”
“The devil she has! Well, then you'll have to unwrap it, I guess, and pretend to do something. But it would be better to let it alone.”
“I know that.”
“How is the other patient tonight?”
“Doing fine, Doctor.”
“Good! Good-bye.”
There was a spacious, airy, upper chamber opening out on a balcony at the doctor's house which the doctor and Mary claimed for theirs. Not now; O no! But in the beautiful golden sometime when the telephone ceased from troubling and the weary ones might rest. This meant when the doctor should retire from night practice. Until that happy time they occupied a smaller room on the first floor as it was near the telephone. Mary had steadfastly refused to have the privacy of her upper rooms invaded by the tyrant.
One warm summer night when bed-time came she made the announcement that she was going upstairs to sleep in the big room.
“But what if I should be called out in the night?” asked her husband, with protest in his voice.
“Then I'd be safer up there than down here,” said Mary, calmly.
“But I mean you couldn't hear the 'phone.”
“That is a consummation devoutly to be wished.”
“Now don't go off up there,” expostulated John. “You always hear it and I sort of depend on you to get me awake.”
“Exactly. But it's a good thing for a man to depend on himself once in awhile. I was awake so often last night that I'm too tired and sleepy to argue. But I'm going. Good night.”
“Thunder!”
“It doesn't ring every night,” said Mary, comfortingly from the landing. “Let us retire in the fond belief that curfew will not ring tonight.”
When she retired she fell at once into deep sleep. For two hours she slept sweetly on. Then she was instantly aroused. The figure of a man stood by her side. In the moonlight she saw him plainly, clad in black. Her heart was coming up into her throat when a voice said,
“Mary, I have to go two miles into the country.”
“Why didn't you call me, John, instead of standing there and scaring me to death?”
“I did call you but I couldn't get you awake.”
“Then you ought to have let me be. If a woman hasn't a right to a night's sleep once in awhile what is she entitled to?”
This petulance was unusual with his wife. “Well, come on down now, Mary,” he said, kindly.
“I'm not going down there this night.”
“But you can't hear the 'phone up here and I'm expecting a message any minute that must be answered.”
“I'll – hear – that – 'phone,” said Mary. “I'll sleep with one ear and one eye open.”
“Have it your own way,” said the doctor as he started down the stairs.
“I intend to. But when I tell you I'll watch the 'phone, John, you know I'll do it.”
He was gone and she lay wide awake. It seemed very hard to be ruthlessly pulled from a sleep so deep and delicious and so much needed.
By and by her eye-lids began to feel heavy and her thoughts went wandering into queer places. “This won't do,” she said aloud, sitting up in bed. Then she rose and went out on to the balcony. Seating herself in an arm chair, she looked about her on the silvery loveliness. The cricket's chirr and the occasional affirmations of the katy-did were the only sounds she heard. “I didn't say you didn't. Don't be so spiteful about it.”
The moon, shining through the branches of the big oak tree made faintly-flickering shadows at her feet. The white hammock, stirring occasionally as a breeze touched it, invited her. She went over to it and lay for many minutes looking up, noting how fast the moon glided from one branch of the tree to another. Now it neared the trunk. Now a slice was cut off its western rim. Now it was only a half moon – “a bweak-moon on the sky,” as her little boy had called it. Now there was a total eclipse. When it began peeping out on the other side of the trunk our watcher's dreamful eyes took no note of it. A dog barked. She sprang up and seated herself in the chair again. She dare not trust herself to the hammock. It was too seductive and too delightful. So she sat erect and waited for the ring which might not come but which must be watched for just the same. Her promise had gone forth. Far up the street she heard horses' hoofs – it must be John returning. The buggy-top shining in the moonlight came into view. No, it was a white horse. Her vigil was not yet ended. A quarter of an hour later she discerned a figure far down the walk. She followed it with her eyes. It moved swiftly on. Would it turn at the corner and come up toward their house? Yes, it was turning. Then it turned into the yard. It was John. She went forward and leaning over the railing called down to him, “A good chance to play Romeo now, John.” John only grunted – after the manner of husbands.
“Nobody rang. I'm going to bed again. Good night – I mean good morning.”
The next night was hotter than ever and Mary made up her mind she would sleep up in the hammock. She had had a delicious taste of it which made her wish for more. To avoid useless discussion she would wait till John retired and was asleep, then she would quietly steal away. But when this was accomplished and she had settled herself comfortably to sleep she found herself wide awake. She closed her eyes and gently wooed slumber, but it came not. Ah, now she knew! The night before she had shaken off all responsibility for the 'phone. Therefore she could sleep. Tonight her husband lay unconscious of her absence and the burden of it was upon her shoulders again. Well, she must try to sleep anyway, this was too good a chance to lose. She fell asleep. After awhile dinner was ready. Mollie had rung the little bell for the boys. Now she was ringing it again. Where can the boys have got to? Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Mary sat up in the hammock and rubbed her eyes.
“Oh!” she sprang out and rushed to the stairs. “Doctor!”
“John!” The snores continued. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling!
“Oh, dear!” gasped Mary, hurrying down as fast as her feet could take her. Straight to the 'phone she went. It must be appeased first.
“Hello?”
“Hell-o! Where's the doctor?”
“He is very fast asleep.”
“I've found that out. Can you get him awake?” Sharp impatience was in the man's voice.
“Hold the 'phone a minute, please, and I'll rouse him.”
She went into the bedroom and calling, “John! John!” shook him soundly by the shoulders. He sat up in bed with a wild look.
“Go to the 'phone, quick!” commanded Mary.
“Eh?”
“Go to the 'phone. It's been ringing like fury. Hurry.”
At last he was there and his wife knew by his questions and answers that he would be out for the rest of the night. She crept into bed. After he was gone she would go upstairs. When he was dressed he came to the door and peered in.
“That's right, Mary,” he said, with such hearty satisfaction in his tones that she answered cheerfully, “All right – I'll stay this time.”
And when he was gone she turned her face from the moonlit window and slept till morning, oblivious to the thieves and murderers that did not come.
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.
“Is the doctor there?”
“He was called out awhile ago; will be back in perhaps twenty minutes.”
“This is Mr. Cowan. I only wanted to ask if my wife could have some lemonade this morning. She is very thirsty and craves it – but I can call again after awhile.”
How discouraging to the feverish, thirsty wife to have her husband come back and tell her he would 'phone again after awhile. And if, after waiting, he still failed to find the doctor? Mary knew the Cowans quite well so she made bold to say, hastily, “I think the doctor would say yes.”
“You think he would?” asked Mr. Cowan, hopefully.
“I think he would, but don't let her have too much, of course.”
“All right. Thank you, Mrs. Blank.”
An uneasy feeling came into Mary's mind and would not depart as she went about her work. Really, what right had she to prescribe for a sick woman even so harmless a thing as lemonade. How did she know that it was harmless. Perhaps in this case there was some combination of symptoms which would make that very thing the thing the patient ought not to have.
In about fifteen minutes there came a ring – three. Mary started guiltily. It sounded like the doctor's ring. Was he going to reprimand her? But it was the voice of a friend and it surprised Mary with this question:
“Mrs. Blank, if you were me would you have your daughter operated upon?”
“Operated upon for what?”
“For appendicitis.”
“Nettie, let me tell you something: if I had no more sense than to give you advice on such a question as that, I certainly hope you would have more sense than to take it. Advice about a thing with no sort of knowledge of that thing is as worthless as it is common.”
“Why – I thought since you are a doctor's wife you would know about it.”
“Can you draw up a legal will because you happen to be the wife of a lawyer?”
“No-o, but – ”
“But me no buts,” quoth Mary. “We're even now.”
“Well, I've heard it said a doctor's wife knows even less than many others about ills and their remedies because she is so used to depending on her husband that she never has to think of them herself. I guess I'd better talk to the doctor. I just thought I'd see what you said first. Good-bye.”
“My skirts are clear of any advice in that direction,” thought Mary, her mind reverting again to the lemonade.
“Nettie couldn't have 'phoned me at a more opportune minute to get the right answer. But I wonder if John is back. I'll see.” She rang.
“Hello.”
“Say, John, Mr. Cowan 'phoned awhile ago, and his wife was very thirsty and craved lemonade and – don't scold – I took the liberty of saying – it's awful for a thirsty person to have to wait and wait you know – and so I said I thought you would say she might have it.”
“I hope you weren't this long about it,” laughed her husband.
“Then it was all right?”
“Certainly.” Much relieved Mary hung up the receiver. “What needless apprehension assails us sometimes,” she thought, as she went singing to her broom.
“Just the same, I won't prescribe very often.”
CHAPTER XI
It was five o'clock in the morning when the doctor heard the call and made his way to it. His wife was roused too and was a passive listener.
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Down where? I don't understand you.”
“On what street?.. Down near Dyre's? I don't know any such family.” Here Mary called out, “Maybe they mean Dye's.”
“Dye's? Yes, I know where that is… Galliver – that's the name is it? Very well, Mrs. Galliver, I'll be down in a little while… Yes, just as soon as I can dress and get there.”
He proceeded to clothe himself very deliberately, but years of repression had taught Mary resignation.
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Three rings.
The doctor went with shoe in hand and again his wife was a listener.
“Yes… Yes… I'm just getting ready to go to see a patient… It's a hurry call, is it? All right then, I'll come there first… Yes, right away.”
As he put up the receiver he said to his wife, “Somebody else was trying to get me then, too, but couldn't make it.” Mary thought it well he couldn't since her husband was only one and indivisible.
“But he will probably try again after a little,” she thought, “and John will be gone and I won't know just where to find him.”
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. Collar in hand the doctor went.
“Yes… Who is this?.. Come where?.. Jackson street. Right next to Wilson's mill?.. On which side? I say on which side of Wilson's mill?.. West? All right, I'll be down there after awhile… No, not right away; I have to make two other visits first, but as soon as I can get there.”
When at last he was dressed and his hand was on the door-knob the 'phone called him back.
“You say I needn't come… Very well. I'll come if you want me to though, Mrs. Galliver. I'm just starting now. I have to see another patient first.” —
“Why John,” interposed Mary from the bedroom, “She called you first.”
“It will be about half an hour before I can get there… All right, I'll be there.”
Then Mary remembered that No. 2 was the hurry call and was silent. When the doctor was gone she fell asleep but only for two minutes.
She went to answer the call. “Has the doctor started yet?”
“Yes, he is on his way.”
“All right then,” and the relief in the tone was a pleasant thing to hear.
“Now, if I go to sleep again I can feel no security from No. 1 or No. 3 or both.” Nevertheless she did go to sleep and neither No. 1 nor No. 3 called her out of it.
“I must be going,” said Mary, rising from her chair in a neighbor's house.
“Have you something special on hand?” asked her neighbor.
“Yes, it's clock-winding day at our house, for one thing.”
“Why, how many clocks do you have to wind?” inquired the little old lady with mild surprise.
“Only one, thank heaven!” ejaculated Mary as she departed.
When she had sped across the yard and entered her own door she threw off her shawl and made ready to wind the clock. First, she turned off the gas in the grate so that her skirts would not catch fire. Second, she brought a chair and set it on the hearth in front of the grate. Third, she went into the next room and got the big unabridged dictionary, brought it out and put it on the chair. Fourth, she went back and got the oldest and thickest Family Bible and the fat Bible Dictionary, brought them out and deposited them on the unabridged. Fifth, she mounted the chair. Sixth, she mounted the volumes – which brought her up to the height she was seeking to attain. Seventh, she wound the clock; that is, she usually did. Today, when she had inserted the key and turned it twice round – the 'phone rang. Oh, dear! Thank goodness it stopped at two rings. She would take it for granted the doctor was in the office. She wound on. Then she took the key out and inserted it on the opposite side. A second peal. That settled it. If it were a lawyer's or a merchant's or any other man's 'phone she could wind the other side first – but the doctor's is in the imperative mood and the present tense. She must descend. Slowly and cautiously she did so, went to the 'phone and put the receiver to her ear.
“Hello, is this Dr. Blank's office?”
“This is his – ”
“Hello, what is it?” said her husband's voice. “Now why couldn't he have come a minute sooner,” thought Mary, provoked.
“Doctor,” said an agitated voice, “my little boy has swallowed a penny.”
“Was it a good one?” inquired the doctor, calmly.
“Why – ye-es,” said the voice, broken with a laugh, “guess it was.”
“Just let him alone. It will be all right after awhile.”
“It was worth getting down to hear so comforting an assurance,” said Mary as she ascended again the chair and the volumes. She finished her weekly task, then slowly and cautiously descended, carried the big books back to their places, set the chair in its corner and lighted the gas. She stood for a moment looking up at this clock. The space over the mantel-piece was just the place for it and it was only after it had been firmly anchored to the wall that the thought had arisen, “How can I ever get up there to wind it?”
She smiled as she thought of a social gathering a few days before, when a lady had called to her across the room, “Mrs. Blank, tell us that clock story again.” And she had answered:
“It isn't much of a story, but it serves to show the manner in which we computed the time. One night the doctor woke me up. ‘Mary,’ he said in a helpless sort of way, ‘It struck seven– what time is it?’ ‘Well – let me see,’ I said. ‘If it struck seven it meant to strike three, for it strikes four ahead of time. And if it meant to strike three it's just a quarter past two, for it's three quarters of an hour too fast.’” Ting-a-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.
Mary recognized her husband's ring. “Yes, what is it John?”
“I'm going out for twenty minutes, watch the 'phone, please.”
She laughed in answer to this most superfluous request, then sat her down near by.
“John, Mrs. B. said a pretty good thing last night.”
“That's good.”
“I've a notion not to tell you, now that the good thing was about you.”
“That's better still. But are good things about me so rare that you made a note of it?”
“I don't know but what they are,” said Mary, reflectively. “There was Mrs. C., you know, who said she didn't see how in the world Doc Blank's wife ever lived with him – he was so mean.”
“I wonder about that myself, sometimes.”
“The way I manage it is to assert myself when it becomes necessary – and it does. You're a physician to your patients but to me you're a mere man.”
“I feel myself shrivelling. But how about Mrs. B.'s compliment?”
“I was over at the church where a social program of some sort was being given and ‘between acts’ everybody was moving about chatting. An elderly woman near me asked, ‘Mrs. Blank, do you know who the Hammell's are?’ I told her that I did not, and she went on, ‘I see by the paper that a member of their family died today, and I thought you, being a doctor's wife, might know something about it.’
“Mrs. B. spoke up promptly, ‘Why, Mrs. Blank wouldn't know anything about the dead people – her husband gets 'em well.’”
The doctor laughed, “And she believes it too,” he said.
“No doubt of it. So a compliment like that offsets one of Mrs. C.'s kind.”
“O, no. The C.'s have it by a big majority. Don't you know I have the reputation of being the meanest man in the county?”
“No, I don't.”
“Well, I have. Do you remember that drive we took a week or two ago up north?”
“That long drive?”
“Yes. When I went in the man who was a stranger to me, said, ‘I'll tell you why I sent for you. I've had two or three doctors out here, recommended as good doctors, and they haven't done me a darned bit of good. Yesterday I heard you was the meanest doctor in this county and I said to myself, “He's the man I want.”’”
“I heard you laughing and wondered what it was about. The man's wife came out to the buggy and talked to me. She said they were strangers and didn't know anything about the doctors around here – they had thought of sending down to this town for a doctor but she had spoken to a woman – a neighbor – and she had said there wasn't any of 'em any account down there. But her husband kept getting worse so they finally sent for Dr. Blank and she hoped he'd cure 'im. Are you doing it? I hope so for I assured her that the physicians of this town are recognized throughout the State as being men of exceptional ability, and she went in, comforted.”
“Yes, he got better as soon as he struck the road to health,” laughed John. He took out his watch. “Jove! I haven't any time to spare if I catch that train.” For several days he had been taking the train to a little station some miles out of town, where he would get off and walk a mile to the home of his patient, make his visit and walk back in time to catch the train for home.
Just after the doctor left the house the telephone rang twice. His wife answered it, knowing he had not yet reached the office.
“Is the doctor there?”
“He left the house just a minute ago.”
“Well, he's coming down today isn't he?”
“Is this Mrs. Shortridge?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, he just said he must make that train.”
“He'll go to the office first won't he?”
“Yes, to get his case, I think.”
“Will you please telephone him there to bring a roast with him?”
“To bring what?”
“A roast.”
Mary was nonplussed. Her husband had the reputation of “roasting” his patients and their attendants on occasion. Had an occasion arisen now?
“Why, ye-es,” she began, uncertainly, when the voice spoke again.
“I mean a roast of beef, Mrs. Blank. I thought as the doctor was coming he wouldn't mind stopping at the butcher's and bringing me a roast – tell him a good-sized one.”
The receiver clicked. Mary still held hers. Then she rang the office.
“What is it?” Great haste spoke in the voice.
“John, Mrs. Shortridge wants you to bring her a roast of beef when you go down.”
“The devil she does!”
“The market is right on your way. Hurry. Don't miss the train!” She put up the receiver, then she snatched it and rang again violently.
“Now what!” thundered John's voice.
“She said to get a good-sized one.” Standing with the receiver in her hand and shaking with laughter she heard the office-door shut with a bang and knew that he was off.
She knew that if he had been going in the buggy he would have been glad to do Mrs. S.'s bidding. He often carried ice and other needful things to homes where he visited. Mary pictured her husband picking his way along a muddy country road, his case in one hand and the “roast” in the other, and thought within herself, “He'll be in a better mood for a roast when he arrives than when he started.”
Mary was out in the kitchen making jelly. At the critical moment when the beaded bubbles were “winking at the brim” came the ring. She lifted the kettle to one side, wiped her hands and went.
“Is this you, Mary?”
“Yes.”
“Watch the 'phone a little bit, please. I have to be out about half an hour.”
“I'm always watching the 'phone, John, always, always!”
She went back to her jelly. She put it back on the fire, an inert mass with all the bubbles died out of it. Scarcely had she done so when the 'phone rang – two rings. Surely the doctor had not got beyond hearing distance. He would answer. But perhaps he had – he was a very swift walker. The only way to be sure of it was to go to the telephone and listen. She went hastily back and as she put the receiver to her ear there came a buzz against it which made her jump.
“Hello,” she said.
“I wanted the doctor, Mrs. Blank, do you know where he is?”
“He just 'phoned me that he – ” an unmistakable sound arose from the kitchen stove. The jelly was boiling over! Instinct is older than the telephone. The receiver dangled in air while Mary rushed madly to the rescue. “I might have known it,” she said to herself, as she pushed the kettle aside and rushed back to the 'phone.
“I guess they cut us off,” said the voice.
“I was just saying,” said Mary, “that the doctor 'phoned me a few minutes ago he would be out for half an hour.”
“Will you please tell him when he comes in to call up 83?”
The man goes on his way, relieved of further responsibility in the matter. It will be a very easy thing for the doctor's wife to call up her husband and give him the message. Let us see.
When the jelly was done, and Mary had begun to fill the waiting glasses she thought, “I'd better see if John is back. He may go out again before I can deliver that message.” So she set the kettle on the back of the stove and went to ascertain if her husband had returned. No answer to her ring. She had better ring again to be sure of it. No answer. She went back to the kitchen. When the glasses were all filled and she had held first one and then another up to get the sunlight through the clear beautiful redness of them, she began setting them back to cool. The telephone! She hurried in and rang again to see if John had got back. Silence. She sighed and hung up the receiver. “I'd like to get it off my mind.” As she started toward the kitchen again the door-bell rang. She went to open the door, and wonder of wonders – an old friend she had not seen for years!
“I am passing through town, Mary, and have just three quarters of an hour till my train goes. Now sit down and talk.”
And the pair of them did talk, oblivious to everything about them. How the minutes did fly and the questions too! The 'phone rang in the next room – two rings. On Mary's accustomed ear it fell unheeded. She talked on. Again two rings. She did not notice.
“Isn't that your 'phone?” asked the visitor.
“O, yes! You knocked it clean out of my head, Alice. Excuse me a minute,” and she vanished.
“Did you give that message to the doctor?”
“He is not back yet.”
“I saw him go into the office not ten minutes ago.”
“I have 'phoned twice and failed to find him.”
“I hoped when I saw him leave the office that he had started down to see my little boy, but of course he hasn't if he didn't get the message.”
“I am sorry. An old friend I had not seen for years came in and of course it went out of my mind for a few minutes, though I 'phoned twice before she came. I am sure he will be back in a few minutes and I will send him right down, Mr. Nelson.”
“Why do you do that?” asked her friend, pointedly as she came in. “Why take upon yourself the responsibility of people's messages being delivered.”
“It is an awful responsibility. I don't know why I do it – so many people seem to expect it as a matter of course – ”
“It's a great deal easier for each person to deliver his own message than for you to have a half dozen on your mind at once. I wouldn't do it. You'll be a raving lunatic by the next time I see you.”
“At least I'll have ample time in which to become one,” laughed Mary.
“I'm going,” announced her friend, suddenly rising. “I could spare five or ten minutes more but if I sit here you'll forget that 'phone again. But take my advice, Mary, and institute a change in the order of things.”
When she had gone Mary sat for a few minutes lost in thought. Then, remembering, she sprang up and went to the 'phone. No answer to her ring. “Dear me! Will I never get that message delivered and off my mind.” Soon a ring came.
“Isn't he back yet?”
“I 'phoned about three minutes ago and failed to get him. By the way, Mr. Nelson, will you just 'phone the doctor at the office, please? That will be a more direct way to get him as I seem to fail altogether this morning. I am sure that he can't be gone much longer,” she said very pleasantly and hung up the receiver. The responsibility had been gracefully shifted and she was free for a while. Other occasions would arise when she could not be free, but in cases of this kind her friend's clear insight had helped her out.
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.
“Hello.”
“Is this Dr. Blank?”
“Yes.”
“My husband has just started for your office. He says he's going to send you down. I don't need a doctor. Will you tell him that?”
“I'll tell him you said so.”
“Well, I don't. So don't you come!”
