honeysuckle, and as Mother Mayberry and Miss Wingate, followed by
Martin Luther, ever ready to do trencher duty, came out of the back
hall Doctor Tom emerged from his office door.

"Why, I didn't see you come in, Tom," said Mother. "You muster used
wings and lit."

"No, I came from across the fields and in the back way. I've had a
patient and I'm puffed up with pride." As he spoke he smiled at Miss
Wingate and his mother delightedly.

"'Lias Hoover's puppy," said Mother, stating the fact to Miss
Wingate. "Was you able to fix him up, Tom?"

"Oh, yes; his puppyship will navigate normally in ten days, I think;
but this was a real patient."

"Why, who, son? Don't keep me waiting to know, for I'm worried at
the very thought of a Providence pain. Who's down now and what did
you do for 'em?" And Mother bestowed upon the young doctor a glance
of inter-professional inquiry. "Squire Tutt," answered her son
promptly. "I met him up by the store and he asked me what I would do
if a man had a snake bite out in the woods, ten miles from any hot-
water kettle. I diagnosed the situation and prescribed with the help
of Mr. Petway, and I think--I think, Mother, I've proselyted your
patient."

"Now, Tom, don't make fun of the Squire. Them are real pains he has,
and I don't think it is right for a doctor to have a doubting mind
towards a patient. Sympathy will help worry any kinder bad dose