was something like indignation mingling with the sorrow gnawing at the
hearts of the old couple as they watched by their fever-stricken
darling. Farmer Green, too, shared the feeling, and numerous at first
were his mental animadversions against that "prig of a Holbrook." But
when Maddy grew so bad as not to know him or his wife, he laid aside
his prejudices, and suggested to Grandpa Markham that Dr. Holbrook be
sent for.

"He's great on fevers," he said, "and is good on curin' sick folks,"
so, though he would have preferred some one else should have been
called, confidence in the young doctor's skill won the day, and
grandpa consented.

This, then, was the errand of Farmer Green, and with his usual
bluntness, he said to the recreant doctor, who chanced to be at home:

"Wall, you nigh about killed our little Madge t'other day, when you
refused the stifficut, and now we want you to cure her."

The doctor looked up in surprise, but Farmer Green soon explained his
meaning, making out a most aggravated case, and representing Maddy as
wild with delirium.

"Keeps talkin' about the big books, the Latin and the Hebrew, and even
the Catechism, as if such like was 'lowed in our school. I s'pose you
didn't know no better; but if Maddy dies, you'll have it to answer
for, I reckon."

The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily took down the
medicines he thought he might need, and stowed them carefully away. He