he
would do or take so-and-so, not meaning really that they should do so
but merely to get rid of them, and indicating of course any one of a
hundred harmless things--never one that could really have proved
injurious to any one. Once, according to his daughter, as he was driving
into town from somewhere, he met a man on a lumber wagon whom he
scarcely knew but who knew him well enough, who stopped and showed him a
sore on the upper tip of his ear, asking him what he would do for it.

"Oh," said the doctor, idly and jestingly, "I think I'd cut it off."

"Yes," said the man, very much pleased with this free advice, "with
what, Doctor?"

"Oh, I think I'd use a pair of scissors," he replied amusedly, scarcely
assuming that his jesting would be taken seriously.

The driver jogged on and the doctor did not see or hear of him again
until some two months later when, meeting him in the street, the driver
smilingly approached him and enthusiastically exclaimed:

"Well, Doc, you see I cut 'er off, and she got well!"

"Yes," replied the doctor solemnly, not remembering anything about the
case but willing to appear interested, "--what was it you cut off?"

"Why, that sore on my ear up here, you know. You told me to cut it off,
and I did."

"Yes," said the doctor, becoming curious and a little amazed, "with
what?"

"Why, with a pair of scissors, Doc, just like you said."

The doctor stared at him, the whole thing coming gradually back to him.

"But didn't you have some trouble in cutting it off?" he inquired, in
disturbed astonishment.

"No, no," said the driver, "I made 'em sharp, all right. I spent two
days whettin' 'em up, and Bob Hart cut 'er off fer me. They cut, all
right, but I tell you she hurt when she went through the gristle."

He smiled in pleased remembrance of his surgical operation, and the
doctor smiled also, but, according to his daughter, he decided to give
no more idle advice of that kind.

In the school which I attended for a period were two of his sons, Fred
and Walter. Both were very fond of birds, and kept a number of one kind
or another about their home--not in cages, as some might, but inveigled
and trained as pets, and living in the various open bird-houses fixed
about the yard on poles. The doctor himself was intensely fond of these
and all other birds, and, according to his daughter and his sons, always
anticipated the spring return of many of diem--black-birds, blue jays,
wrens and robins