About ten o'clock we got
a telegram from the new doctor we'd been expecting, that he'd fallen
on the ice on his way to the train and broken his arm, and at eleven a
delegation from the guests waited on Mr. Pierce and told him they'd have
to have a house physician at once.

Senator Biggs was the spokesman. He said that, personally, he couldn't
remain another day without one; that he should be under a physician's
care every moment of his fast, and that if no doctor came that day
he'd be in favor of all the guests showing their displeasure by leaving
together.

"Either that," Thoburn said from the edge of the crowd, "or call it a
hotel at once and be done with it. A sanatorium without a doctor is like
an omelet without eggs!"

"Hamlet without ham," somebody said.

"We're doing the best we can," Mr. Pierce explained. "We--we expect a
doctor to-day."

"When?" from Mr. Jennings, who had come on a cane and was watching Mr.
Pierce like a hawk.

"This afternoon, probably. As there is no one here very ill--"

But at that they almost fell on him and tore him to pieces. I had to
step in front of him myself and say we'd have somebody there by two
o'clock if we had to rob a hospital to get him. And Mr. Sam cried,
"Three cheers for Minnie, the beautiful spring-house girl!" and led off.

There's no doubt about it--a man ought to be born to the sanatorium
business. A real strong and healthy man has no business trying to run
a health resort, and I saw Mr. Pierce wasn't making the hit that I'd
expected him to.

He was too healthy. You only needed to look at him to know that he took
a cold plunge every morning, and liked to walk ten miles a day, and
could digest anything and go to sleep the minute his head touched the
pillow. And he had no tact. When Mrs. Biggs went to him and explained
that the vacuum cleaner must not be used in her room--that it exhausted
the air or something, and she could hardly breathe after it--he only
looked bewildered and then drew a diagram to show her it was impossible
that it could exhaust the air. The old doctor knew how: he'd have
ordered an oxygen tank opened in the room after the cleaner was used and
she'd have gone away happy.

Of course Mr. Pierce was most polite. He'd listen to their
complaints--and they were always complaining, that's part of the
regime--with a puzzled face, trying to understand, but he couldn't.
He hadn't a nerve in his body. Once, when one of the dining-room girls
dropped