t overcoat and boots
are drawn on; medicine case hastily seized, and the doctor rushes forth
again into the storm.

Pity for his faithful horse induces him to traverse the distance on
foot, and a rapid walk of half a mile brings him to the house.

It was no needless alarm. The attack was a severe one, and all his skill
was required to save the life of the little one. It was daylight ere he
could leave him with safety. Then, as he was about departing for his own
home, an express messenger arrived to entreat him to go immediately to
another place nearly a mile in an opposite direction.

Breakfast was over ere he reached his own house. His thoughtful wife
suggested a nap; but a glance at the already well-filled slate showed
this to be out of the question. A hasty toilet, and still hastier
breakfast, and the doctor is again seated in his chaise, going on his
accustomed rounds; but we will not now accompany him.

Let us pass over two or three months, and invite ourselves to another
ride. One pleasant morning, when less pressed with business, he walks
leisurely from the house to the chaise, and gathering up the reins with
a remarkably thoughtful air, rides slowly down the street.

But few patients are on his list, and these are first attended to.

The doctor then pauses for consideration. He has set apart this day
for _collecting_. Past experience has taught him that the task is by no
means an agreeable one. It is necessary, however--absolutely so--for,
as we have said before, doctors must live as well as other people; their
house-rent must be paid, food and clothing must be supplied.

A moment only pauses the doctor, and then we are again moving onward.
A short ride brings us to the door of a pleasantly-situated house. We
remember it well. It is where the little one lay in fits when we last
rode out with the doctor. We recall the scene: the convulsed countenance
of the child; the despair of the parents, and the happiness which
succeeded when their beloved one was restored to them.

Surely they will now welcome the doctor. Thankfully will they pay the
paltry sum he claims as a recompense for his services. We are more
confident than the doctor. Experience is a sure teacher. The door does
not now fly open at his approach. He gives his name to the girl who
answers the bell, and in due time the lady of the house appears.

"Ah! doctor, how do you do? You are quite a stranger! Delightful
weather," &c.

The doctor replies