Chapter III

On the 1st of January, Dr. Broadbeam’s bill for professional services, amounting to over two hundred dollars, was presented to Mr. Barrington, and was promptly paid. He was not one of that numerous and highly respectable class of people who make it a point to grumble at doctor’s bills.

The manufacturer was a peaceful, prudent man, not disposed to stir up strife in the neighborhood; so he kept silent in regard to his unpleasant interview with the physician.

About a month after, Mr. Barrington was roused from his slumbers at midnight by the sound of an ominous cough from Charley. But this time it did not awake the little fellow. The fond father was still fearful of the croup; yet the child slept so soundly that his fears subsided, and he was just dropping asleep again when the cough was repeated.

In a few minutes the child awoke, and his respiration began to grow difficult.

“What do you think?” asked he of his wife.

“He is a little croupy; but I do not think there is any occasion to be alarmed. I will give him the ‘Hive Sirup,’ which I doubt not will immediately relieve him.”

Mr. Barrington got up and brought the sirup. A dose was given, and the parents waited with anxiety the effect.

An hour elapsed, and the child was no better.

“Don’t you think I had better send for the doctor?” said Mr. Barrington.

“No, I can get along very well.”

“But the croup; hasn’t he got it?”

“He has a croupy cough, which may lead to croup, if it is not attended to,” replied Mrs. Barrington, giving the little sufferer another spoonful of the sirup.

Two hours more passed away, and instead of getting better, the child grew worse every minute. But Mrs. Barrington did not like to send for the doctor. In the family of her father, a physician had rarely ever been called, and she had come to regard the faculty with something like contempt.

“He grows worse,” said Mr. Barrington, beginning to lose confidence in the efficacy of his wife’s treatment.

“The medicine has not had time to produce its effect yet,” replied Mrs. Barrington. “He will begin to grow better soon.”

“I think we had better send for the doctor,” added the anxious father. “It may be too late in the morning.”

“I do not want any more fuss with the doctor. The last time he came, he made me so nervous that it took me a week to get over it.”

“We will not have Dr. Broadbeam, then.”

“He will be better soon.”

“Do not delay it too long.”

Another hour elapsed, and still the little sufferer was no better. His breathing was extremely difficult, and the cough was more frequent and hard. The mother’s remedy had apparently produced no effect whatever, and she began to be alarmed herself.

“Perhaps you had better send for the doctor,” said she.

“Dr. Broadbeam?”

“I don’t know.”

“I determined, when I paid his last bill, never to employ him again.”

“Dr. Slender has been very successful in croup,” added Mrs. Barrington, “and I should feel just as much confidence in him as in Dr. Broadbeam.”

“I will send for him.”

In less than fifteen minutes after the messenger left the house, the young physician arrived. Of course he was not a little astonished to be roused from his bed by a summons from the “leading man of the village;” but he had chosen his profession, and considered it a duty to go whenever and wherever he was called.

Dr. Slender examined the child.

“You should have procured a physician before,” said he, shaking his head ominously.

Mr. Barrington’s heart rose to his throat. His frame trembled, and he was so nervous that he was forced to cling to the bedpost for support.

“Is he dangerous, doctor?” asked he.

“Three hours ago, it would not have been a bad case. I doubt if he can be saved now. But there is no time to be lost. Bring me some cold water and some linen cloths.”

Dr. Slender gave the child a portion of medicine, and applied himself with so much energy to the means of effecting a cure, that the parents were inspired with hope, and felt entire confidence in his skill.

Morning dawned upon the little patient, and he was apparently in the last stages of the fell disease. Dr. Slender still remained by him, and was now adopting the last resort known to the physician. The agony of the parents can be conceived by those who have watched over the death bed of a cherished little one, but it cannot be described.

Providence smiled upon the young physician, and he had the inexpressible satisfaction, before noon, of declaring that the child would recover. A pæan of praise rose from the grateful hearts of the devoted parents. In a few days little Charley was as well as ever, and the reputation of Dr. Slender was made.

The star of Dr. Broadbeam had set. The young physician in a few months secured the entire practice of the place. The potent influence of Mr. Barrington was all he needed to insure his success. He was polite and affable in his professional intercourse with his patients, and the contrast between him and his crusty rival was so striking, that every body wondered how they had been able to endure the latter.

Dr. Broadbeam was compelled to “leave town.” Whether or not he has learned that a decent deportment towards his patients is expedient, we are unable to say. But we infer that he has, from the fact that, unable to establish himself again in practice, he turned his attention to the manufacture and sale of patent medicine; and “Broadbeam’s Celebrated Chinese Antibilious Pill” are as popular as advertising and false certificates can make them.

Mr. Barrington has decided that it is best to send for the doctor when the baby sneezes. Dr. Slender is always willing to come when he is sent for, and laughingly maintains that he is just as well satisfied to pocket his fee for saying nothing ails the baby, as for giving it an emetic.