been waited with great anxiety, great efforts were made by those present
to assure him of the esteem in which he was held. Even the dog would not
go to his accustomed place on the hearth until he had caressed the
doctor at least a dozen times. Although held in great respect by the
settlers, Critchel was what might be called a shabby-looking little man,
for his raiment consisted of a brown coat, which he had worn
threadbare, a pair of greasy pantaloons that were in shreds at the
bottom, a spotted vest, and a Spitlesfield neckerchief. Indeed, he was
as antique in his dress as in his ideas of the science of medicine. He
had a round, red face, a short, upturned red nose, and a very bald head,
which Hanz always declared held more sense than people were willing to
give him credit for. There was no quainter figure than this familiar old
doctor as seen mounted on his big-headed and clumsy-footed Canadian
pony, his saddle-bags well filled with pills and powders, and ready to
bleed or blister at call. He was considered marvelously skilful, too, at
drawing teeth and curing the itch, with which the honest Dutch settlers
were occasionally afflicted. I must mention, also, that an additional
cause of the great respect shown him by the settlers was that he took
his pay in such things as they raised on their little farms and could
best spare.




CHAPTER III.

THE NEW COMER.


The storm ceased its fury at four o'clock, and a cold, bright, and calm