felt that I was engaged in a matter of life
and death, for I had never seen mother ill before. In my anxiety for
her I almost forgot all about father. On I rushed, dodging in and out
among the workmen going to their daily toil--there were not many other
persons out at that early hour. Two or three times I heard the cry of
"Stop thief!" uttered by some small urchins for mischiefs sake, and once
an old watchman, who had overslept himself in his box, suddenly starting
out attempted to seize hold of me, fancying that he was about to capture
a burglar, but I slipped away, leaving him sprawling in the dust and
attempting to spring his rattle, and I ran on at redoubled speed, soon
getting out of his sight round a corner. At last I reached Dr Rolt's
house and rang the surgery bell as hard as I could pull. It was some
time before the door was opened by a sleepy maid-servant, who had
evidently just hurried on her clothes.

"Mother wants the doctor very badly," I exclaimed. "Ask him, please, to
come at once."

"The doctor can't come. He's away from home, in London," answered the
girl. "You'd better run on to Dr Hunt's. Maybe he'll attend on your
mother."

I asked where Dr Hunt lived. She told me. His house was some way off,
but I found it at last. Again I had to wait for the door to be opened,
when, greatly to my disappointment, the maid told me that Dr Hunt had
been out all night and might not be at home for an hour or more.

"Oh dear! Oh dear! Who then can I get to see poor mother?" I cried
out, bursting into tears.

"There's Mr Jones, the apothecary, at the end of the next street.
He'll go to your mother, no doubt," said the maid. "Don't cry, my boy.
Run on now; the first turning to the left. You'll see the red and green
globes in his window."

Without stopping to hear more, off I set again. Mr Jones was in his
dispensary, giving directions to his assistant. I told him my errand.

"I'll go presently," he answered. "What's the number?"

Our house had no number, and I could not manage to explain its position
clearly enough for his comprehension.

"Then I'll stay, sir, and show you the way," I said.

"Wait a bit, and I'll be ready," he replied.

He kept me waiting, however, a cruel long time, it seemed to me. At
last he appeared with his silver-mounted cane in hand, and bade me go
on.

"Stop! Stop, boy. I can't move at that rate," he cried out, before we
had got far. He was a short stout man