, "if the fit is on you, there's no use in
remonstrating; your valise will be ready by the morning train." And so
the matter was settled.

But I must have a companion, somebody to talk to and with, somebody
who could appreciate the beauties of nature; who loved the old woods,
the wilderness, and all the wild things pertaining to them; to whom
the forests, the lakes, and tall mountains, the rivers and streams,
would recall the long past; to whom the forest songs and sounds would
bring back the memories of old, and make him "a boy again." So I
sallied out to find him. I had scarcely traversed a square, when I
met my friend, the doctor, with carpet bag in hand, on his way to
the depot.

"Whither away, my friend?" I inquired, as we shook hands.

"Into the country," he replied.

"Very well, but where?"

"Into the country," he repeated, "don't you comprehend? Into the
country, by the first train; anywhere, everywhere, all along shore."

"Go with me," said I, "for a month."

"A month! Bless your simple soul, every patient I've got will be well
in less than half that time; but let them, I'll be avenged on them
another time. But where do _you_ go?"

"To my old haunts in the North," I replied.

"To follow the stag to his slip'ry crag,
And to chase the bounding roe."

"But," said he, "I've no rifle."

"I've got four."

"I've no fishing rod."

"I've half a dozen at your service."

"Give me your hand," said he; "I'm with you." And so the doctor was
booked.

"Suppose," said the doctor, "we beat up Smith and Spalding, and take
them along. Smith has got one of his old fits of the hypo. He sent for
me to-day, and. I prescribed a frugal diet and the country. Wild
game, and bleeding by the musquitoes, will do him good. Spalding is
entitled to a holiday, for he's working himself into dyspepsia in this
hot weather."

"Just the thing;" I replied, and we started to find Smith and
Spalding. We found them, and it was settled that they should go with
us for a month among the mountains. Everybody knows Smith, the
good-natured, eccentric Smith; Smith the bachelor, who has an income
greatly beyond his moderate expenditures, and enough of capital to
spoil, as he says, the orphan children of his sister. By way of saving
them from being thrown upon the cold world with a fortune, he declares
he will spend every dollar of it _himself_, simply out of regard for
_them_. But Smith will do no such thing, and the tenderness w