of
envy, and asked her with a certain show of curiosity what ailed her.
"It's my hand, dear," was the reply. "It pains awful--right up to the
shoulder."
"It's rheumatis you've got, you poor thing," said one of the women who
had addressed her.
"No, I don't think it's exactly that," was the reply; "but the doctor
'll tell. I can't hold my needle with the pain; it keeps me awake o'
nights. Oh, we must all have our share," she added cheerfully; "but ef
it were the will of the Almighty, I'd rayther not have my share o' pain
in my right hand."
"You does needlework fer a living, I suppose?" said a man who stood
near.
"Yes. I only 'opes to the Lord that my working hand isn't going to be
taken from me--but there, I'll soon know."
She smiled brightly at these words, and addressed one of her neighbors
with regard to the state of that neighbor's baby--the child was
evidently suffering from ophthalmia, and could scarcely open its eyes.
It was cold in the out-patients' waiting-room, and the crowd became
impatient and anxious, each for his or her turn to see the doctors who
were in attendance. At last the little woman with the white hair was
admitted to the consulting-room. She was shown in by a dresser, and
found herself face to face with the doctor. He said a few words to
her, asked her some questions with regard to her symptoms, looked at
the hand, touched the thumb and forefinger, examined the palm of the
hand very carefully, and then pronounced his brief verdict.
"You are suffering from what is equivalent to writers' cramp, my good
woman," he said.
"Lor', sir," she interrupted, "I respec'fully think you must be
mistook. I never take a pen in my 'and oftener nor twice a year. I
aint a schollard, sir."
"That don't matter," was the reply; "you use your needle a good deal."
"Of course, and why shouldn't I?"
"How many hours a day do you work?"
"I never count the hours, sir. I work all the time that I've got. The
more I work, the more money there be, you understand."
"Yes, I quite understand. Well, you must knock it off. Here! I shall
order you a certain liniment, which must be rubbed into the hand two or
three times a day."
"But what do you mean by knocking it off, sir?"
"What I say--you must stop needlework. Johnson," continued Dr. Graves,
raising his eyes and looking at the dresser, "send in another patient."
He rose as he spoke.
"I am sorry for you, my poor woman," he said, "b
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