Paying the Doctor
After a day of unusual anxiety and fatigue, Dr. Elton found himselfsnugly wrapped up in a liberal quantity of blankets and bed-quilts,just as the clock struck twelve one stormy night in February. Forover half an hour he had lain awake, racking his brain in referenceto two or three critical cases which were on his hands; but tirednature could keep up no longer, and the sweet oblivion of sleep wasstealing over his senses. But just as he had lost himself, the bellover his head began to ring furiously, and brought him into themiddle of the floor in an instant. Pushing his head out of thewindow, he interrogated the messenger below, just too late to savethat individual the trouble of giving the bell-rope another violentdemonstration of his skill."Mr. Marvel wants you to come and see Charley immediately," repliedthe messenger."What's the matter with Charley?""He's got the croup, I believe.""Tell him I'll be there in a moment," said Dr. Elton, drawing in hishead. Hurrying on his clothes, he descended to his office, and,possessing himself of some necessary medicines, it being too latefor the family to send out a prescription, wrapped his cloak aroundhim, and turned out into the storm.It was at least half a mile to the residence of Mr. Marvel, and by,the time the doctor arrived there, he was cold, wet, anduncomfortable both in mind and body. Ascending to the chamber, hewas not a little surprised to find Charley, a bright little fellowof some two years old, sitting up in his crib as lively as acricket."O doctor! we've been so frightened!" said Mrs. Marvel, as Dr.Elton entered. "We thought Charley had the croup, he breathed soloud. But he don't seem to get any worse. What do you think of him,doctor?"Dr. Elton felt his pulse, listened to his respiration, examined theappearance of his skin, and then said, emphatically--"I think you'd better all be in bed!""It's better to be scared than hurt, doctor," responded Mr. Marvel."Humph!" ejaculated Dr. Elton."Don't you think you'd better give him something, doctor?" said Mrs.Marvel."What for, ma'am?""To keep him from having the croup. Don't you think he's threatenedwith it?""Not half as much as I am," replied the doctor, who made a quickretreat, fearing that he would give way too much to his irritatedfeelings, and offend a family who were able to pay.Next morning, on the debtor side of his ledger, under the name ofMr. Marvel, Dr. Elton made this entry; To one night-visit to son,$5. "And it's well for me that he's able to pay," added the doctor,mentally, as he replaced the book in the drawer from which he hadtaken it. Scarcely had this necessary part of the business beenperformed, when the same messenger who had summoned him the nightbefore, came post-haste into the office, with the announcement thatMrs. Marvel wanted him to come there immediately, as Charley had gota high fever.Obedient to the summons, Dr. Elton soon made his appearance, andfound both Mr. and Mrs. Marvel greatly concerned about their littleboy."I'm so 'fraid of the scarlet fever, doctor!" said Mrs. Marvel."Do you think it's any thing like that?" she continued with muchanxiety, turning upon Charley a look of deep maternal affection.Dr. Elton felt of Charley's pulse, and looked at his tongue, andthen wrote a prescription in silence."What do you think of him, doctor?" asked the father, muchconcerned."He's not dangerous, sir. Give him this, and if he should growworse, send for me."The doctor bowed and departed, and the fond parents sent off for themedicine. It was in the form of a very small dose of rhubarb, andpoor Charley had to have his nose held tight, and the nauseous stuffpoured down his throat. In the afternoon, when the doctor called, onbeing sent for, there were some slight febrile symptoms, consequentupon excitement and loss of rest. The medicine, contrary to hisexpectation, heightened, instead of allaying these; and long beforenightfall he was summoned again to attend his little patient. Muchto his surprise, he found him with a hot skin, flushed face, andquickened pulse. Mrs. Marvel was in a state of terrible alarm."I knew there was more the matter with him than you thought for,doctor!" said the mother, while Dr. Elton examined his patient. "Youthought it was nothing, but I knew better. If you'd only prescribedlast night, as I wanted you to, all this might have been saved.""Don't be alarmed, madam," said the doctor, "there is nothingserious in this fever. It will soon subside."Mrs. Marvel shook her head."It's the scarlet fever, doctor, I know it is!" said she,passionately, bursting into tears."Let me beg of you, madam, not to distress yourself. I assure youthere is no danger!""So you said last night, doctor; and just see how much worse he isgetting!"As Dr. Elton was generally a man of few words, he said no more, butwrote a prescription, and went away, promising, however, at theearnest request of Mrs. Marvel, to call again that night.About nine o'clock he called in, and found Charley's fever in nodegree abated. Mrs. Marvel was in tears, and her husband pacing thefloor in a state of great uneasiness."O doctor, he'll die, I'm sure he'll die!" said Mrs. Marvel, weepingbitterly."Don't be alarmed, my dear madam," replied the doctor. "I assure youit is nothing serious.""Oh, I'm 'sure it's the scarlet fever! It's all about now.""No, madam, I am in earnest when I tell you it is nothing of thekind. His throat is not in the least sore.""Yes, doctor, it is sore!""How do you know?" responded the doctor, examining Charley's mouthand throat, which showed not the least symptom of any irritation ofthe mucous membrane. "It can't be sore from any serious cause. Sometrifling swelling of the glands is all that can occasion it, if anyexist."Thus assured, and in a positive manner, Mrs. Marvel's alarm in somedegree abated, and after ordering a warm bath, the doctor retired.About three o'clock the doctor was again sent for in great haste. Onentering the chamber of his little patient, he found his fever allgone, and he in a pleasant sleep."What do you think of him, doctor?" asked Mrs. Marvel, in a low,anxious whisper."I think he's doing as well as he can.""But a'n't it strange, doctor, that he should breathe so low? Helooks so pale, and lays so quiet! Are you sure he's not dying?""Dying!" exclaimed Dr. Elton,--"he's no more dying than you are!Really, Mrs. Marvel, yon torment yourself with unnecessary fears!Nature is only a little exhausted from struggling with the fever, hewill be like a new person by morning.""Do not mistake the case, doctor, for we are very much concerned,"said Mr. Marvel."I do assure you, sir, that I understand the case precisely; and youmust believe me, when I tell you that no patient was ever in abetter way than your little boy."Next morning, among other charges made by Dr. Elton, were twoagainst Mr. Marvel, as follows: To four visits to son, $4. _To onenight-visit to son,_ $5."Not a bad customer!" said the doctor, with a smile, as he ran upthe whole account, and then closed the book.In the constant habit of sending for the doctor on every triflingoccasion, whether it occurred at noonday or midnight, it is not tobe wondered at that a pretty large bill should find its way to Mr.Marvel at the end of the year. And this was not the worst of it; thehealth of his whole family suffered in no slight degree from thefact of each individual being so frequently under the influence ofmedicine. Poor Charley was victimized almost every week; and,instead of being a fresh, hearty boy, began to show a pale, thinface, and every indication of a weakened vital action. Thisappearance only increased the evil, for both parents, growing moreanxious in consequence, were more urgent to have him placed undertreatment. Dr. Elton sometimes remonstrated with them, but to nopurpose; and yielding to their ignorance and their anxiety, became aparty in the destruction of the boy's health."What is that, my dear?" asked Mrs. Marvel of her husband, some tenmonths after their introduction to the reader, as the latterregarded, with no pleasant countenance, a small piece of paper whichhe held in his hand."Why, it's Dr. Elton's bill.""Indeed! How much is it?""One hundred and fifty dollars!""Oh, husband!""Did you ever hear of such a thing?""One hundred and fifty dollars, did you say?""Yes, one hundred and fifty dollars. A'n't it outrageous?""It's scandalous! It's downright swindling! I'd never pay it in theworld! Who ever heard of such a thing! One hundred and fifty dollarsfor one year's attendance! Good gracious!"--and Mrs. Marvel held upher hands, and lifted her eyes in profound astonishment."I can't understand it!" said Mr. Marvel. "Why, nobody's had a spellof sickness in the family for the whole year. Charley's been alittle sick once or twice; but nothing of much consequence. Theremust be something wrong about it. I'll go right off and see him, andhave an understanding about it at once."Carrying out his resolution on the instant, Mr. Marvel left thehouse and proceeded with rapid steps toward the office of Dr. Elton.He found that individual in."Good morning Mr. Marvel! How do you do to-day?" said the doctor,who understood from his countenance that something was wrong, andhad an instinctive perception of its nature."Good morning, doctor! I got your bill to-day.""Yes, sir; I sent it out.""But a'n't there something wrong about it, doctor?""No, I presume not. I make my charges carefully, and draw off mybills in exact accordance with them.""But there must be, doctor. How in the world could you make a billof one hundred and fifty dollars against me? I've had no serioussickness in my family.""And yet, Mr. Marvel, I have been called in almost every week, andsometimes three or four times in as many days.""Impossible!""I'll show you my ledger, if that will satisfy you, where everyvisit is entered.""No, it's no use to do that. I know that you have been called inpretty often, but not frequently enough to make a bill like this.""How many night-visits do you suppose I have made to your family,during the year?""I'm sure I don't know. Not more than three or four.""I've made ten!""You must be mistaken, doctor.""Do you remember that I was called in last February, when youthought Charley had the croup?""Yes.""And the night after?""Yes. That's but two.""And the night you thought he had the measles?""Yes.""And the night after?""Yes. But that's only four.""And the three times he fell out of bed?""Not three times, doctor!""Yes, it was three times. Don't you recollect the knob on his head?""Yes, indeed!""And the sprained finger?""Yes.""And the bruised cheek?""Well, I believe you are right about that, doctor. But that don'tmake ten times.""You have not forgotten, of course, the night he told you he hadswallowed a pin?""No, indeed," said the father, turning pale. "Do you think there isany danger to be apprehended from its working its way into theheart, doctor?""None at, all, I should think. And you remember"--"Never mind, doctor, I suppose you are right about that. But how canten visits make one hundred and fifty dollars?""They will make fifty, though, and that is one-third of the bill.""You don't pretend to charge five dollars a visit, though, doctor?""For all visits after ten o'clock at night, we are allowed by law tocharge five dollars.""Outrageous!""Would you get up out of your warm bed after midnight, turn out in aDecember storm, and walk half a mile for five dollars?""I can't say that I would. But then it's your business.""Of course it is, and I must be paid for it.""Any how, doctor, that don't account for the whole of thisexorbitant bill.""But one hundred day and evening visits here on my ledger will,though.""You don't pretend to say you have paid my family a hundred visits,certainly?""I will give you day and date for them, if necessary.""No, it's no use to do that," said Mr. Marvel, whose memory began tobe a little more active. "I'll give you a hundred dollars, and sayno more about it; that is enough, in all conscience.""I can't do any such thing, Mr. Marvel. I have charged you what wasright, and can take nothing off. What would you think of a man whohad made a bill at your store of one hundred and fifty dollars, ifhe were to offer you one hundred when he came to pay, and ask for areceipt in full?""But that a'n't to the point.""A'n't it, though? I should like to hear of a case more applicable.But it's no use to multiply words about the matter. My bill iscorrect, and I cannot take a dollar off of it.""It's the last bill you ever make out of me, remember that, doctor!"said Mr. Marvel, rising, and leaving the office in a state of angryexcitement."Well, what does he say?" asked Mrs. Marvel, who had waited for herhusband's return with some interest."He tried to beat me down that the bill was all right; but I'm tooold a child for that. Why, would you believe it?--he has chargedfive dollars for every night-visit.""That's no better than highway robbery.""Not a bit. But it's the last money he ever gets out of me.""I'd never call him in, I know. He must think we're made of money.""Oh, I suppose we're the first family he's had who wasn't poor, andhe wanted to dig as deep as possible. I hate such swindling, and ifit wasn't for having a fuss I'd never pay him a dollar.""He's charged us for every poor family in the neighbourhood, Isuppose.""No doubt of it. I've heard of these tricks before; but it's thelast time I'll submit to have them played off upon me."The visit of Mr. Marvel somewhat discomposed the feelings of Dr.Elton, and he had begun to moralize upon the unthankful position heheld in the community, when he was aroused from his reverie by theentrance of a servant from one of the principal hotels, with asummons to attend immediately a young lady who was thought to beexceedingly ill."Who is she?" asked the doctor."She is the daughter of Mr. Smith, a merchant from the East.""Is any one with her?""Yes, her father.""Tell him I will be there immediately."In the course of fifteen minutes Dr. Elton's carriage drove up tothe door of the hotel. He found his patient to be a young lady ofabout seventeen, accompanied by her father, a middle-aged man, whosefeelings were much, and anxiously excited.At a glance, his practised eye detected symptoms of a seriousnature, and a closer examination of the case convinced him that allhis skill would be called into requisition. With a hot, dry skin,slightly flushed face, parched lips, and slimy, furred tongue, therewas a dejection, languor, and slight indication of delirium--andmuch apparent confusion of mind. Prescribing as he thought the caserequired, he left the room, accompanied with the father."Well, doctor, what do you think of her?" said Mr. Smith, with aheavy, oppressed expiration."She is ill, sir, and will require attention.""But, doctor, you don't think my child dangerous, do you?" said thefather with an alarmed manner."It is right that you should know, sir, that your daughter is, toall appearance, threatened with the typhus fever. But I don't thinkthere is any cause for alarm, only for great care in her physicianand attendants.""O doctor, can I trust her in your hands? But I am foolish; I knowthat there is no one in this city of more acknowledged skill thanyourself. You must pardon a father's fears. Spare no attentions,doctor--visit her at least twice every day, and you shall be wellpaid for your attentions. Save my child for me, and I will owe youeternal gratitude.""All that I can do for her, shall be done, sir," said Dr. Elton.Just relieved from the care of a dangerous case, in its healthychange, Dr. Elton's mind had relaxed from the anxiety which toofrequently burdened it; for a physician's mind is always oppressedwhile the issue, of life or death hangs upon his power to subdue adisease, which may be too deeply seated to yield to the influence ofmedicine. Now, all the oppressive sense of responsibility, the care,the anxiety, were to be renewed, and felt with even a keenerconcern.In the evening he called in, but there was no perceptible change,except a slight aggravation of all the symptoms. The medicine hadproduced no visible salutary effect. During the second day, therewas exhibited little alteration, but on the morning of the thirdday, symptoms of a more decided character had supervened--such assuffused and injected eyes, painful deglutition, an oppression inthe chest, accompanied with a short, dry cough, pains in the back,loins, and extremities; and a soreness throughout the whole body.These had not escaped the father's observation, and with the mostpainful anxiety did he watch the countenance of the physician whilehe examined the case in its new presentation. Much as he tried tocontrol the expression of his face, he found it impossible. He felttoo deeply concerned, and was too conscious of the frequentimpotence of medicine, when administered with the most experiencedskill.In the afternoon he called again, and found the father, as usual, bythe bedside. His patient seemed to be in a narcotic sleep, and whenroused from it, complained of much giddiness, and soon sunk downagain into a state of torpor."What do you think of her now, doctor?" asked the father, in ahoarse whisper, on the physician's leaving the chamber of hispatient."It is impossible to form any correct idea respecting a case likethis. I have seen many much worse recover, and have no doubt, as faras human calculation will go, that your daughter will get well. Butthe fever is a tedious one, usually defying all attempts at breakingit. It must run its course, which is usually some ten or fifteendays. All we can do is to palliate, and then assist nature, when thedisease has abated its violence."It is not necessary to trace the progress of the disease from day today, until it reached its climax. When the fever did break, and asoft, gentle moisture penetrated the skin, the patient had but aspark of life remaining.At the close of the fifteenth day, when every symptom indicated thatconvalescence or death would soon ensue, no one but a physician canimagine the painful, restless anxiety, which was felt by Dr. Elton.He took but little food, and slept hardly any during the wholenight, frequently starting from his brief periods of troubledslumber, in consequence of great nervous excitement.Early in the morning he called at the room of his patient,trembling, lest a first glance should dash every hope to the ground.He entered softly, and perceived the father bending over her with apale anxious face. She was asleep. He took her hand, but let it dropinstantly."What is the matter?" asked the father in an alarmed whisper, hisface growing paler."She is safe?" responded the doctor, in a low whisper, every pulsethrilling with pleasant excitement.The father clasped his hands, looked upward a moment, and then burstinto tears."How can I ever repay you for your skill in saving my child!" hesaid, after his feelings had grown calmer.It was nearly a month before the daughter was well enough to returnhome, during most of which time Dr. Elton was in attendance. Forfifteen days he had attended twice a day regularly, and for nearlyas long a period once a day.While sitting in his office one day about three o'clock, waiting forhis carriage to come up to the door, Mr. Smith entered, and askedfor his bill, as he was about to leave. On examining hisaccount-book, Dr. Elton found that he had made about fifty visits,and accordingly he made out his bill fifty dollars."How much is this, doctor?" said Mr. Smith, eyeing the bill withsomething of doubt in the expression of his countenance."Fifty dollars, sir.""Fifty dollars! Why, surely, doctor, you are not going to takeadvantage of me in that way?""I don't understand you, sir.""Why, I never heard of such an extravagant bill in my life. I havemy whole family attended at home for fifty dollars a year, and youhave not been visiting one of them much over a month.""Such as the bill is, you will have to pay it, sir. It is just, andI shall not abate one dollar," responded Dr. Elton, considerablyirritated.Mr. Smith drew out his pocket-book slowly, selected a fifty-dollarbill from a large package, handed it to the doctor, took hisreceipt, and rising to his feet, said emphatically--"I am a stranger, and you have taken advantage of me. But remember,the gains of dishonesty will never prosper!" and turning upon hisheel, left the office."Who would be a doctor?" murmured Dr. Elton, forcing the unpleasantthoughts occasioned by the incident from his mind, and endeavouringto fix it upon a case of more than usual interest which he had beencalled to that day.A word to the wise is sufficient; it is therefore needless tomultiply scenes illustrative of the manner in which too many peoplepay the doctor.When any one is sick, the doctor is sent for, and the family are allimpatient until he arrives. If the case is a bad one, he is lookedupon as a ministering angel; the patient's eye brightens when hecomes, and all in the house feel more cheerful for hours after. Amidall kinds of weather, at all hours in the day or night, he obeys thesummons, and brings all his skill, acquired by long study, and bymuch laborious practice, to bear upon the disease. But when the sickperson gets well, the doctor is forgotten; and when the billappears, complaint at its amount is almost always made; and toofrequently, unless he proceed to legal measures, it is entirelywithheld from him. These things ought not so to be. Of course, thereare many honourable exceptions; but every physician canexclaim--"Would that their number was greater!"
zpostcode
Recruit
weather
mreligion
Yellowpages
sport
constellation
shopping
name
game
directory
literature
Word
tour
furnish
Lottery
tftnews
lyrics
News
digital
car
dir
Edu
Finance
