The Red Acorn [65]
anything that is so cheap."
Rachel was beguiled into smiling at his merry cynicism.
"Allusions to the pavement in the unmentionable place are barred in this connection," he continued gayly. "On my way to carry out these good intentions--at some one else's expense, remember, all the time--I was called to the bedside of a dying man, and detained there some time. When I at last returned to your room, I judged that you were fast asleep, and I decided not to disturb you."
"I think you would have found it a difficult matter to have roused me. I had sunk on the cot, and was sleeping the sleep of--"
"The just," interposed Dr. Denslow, gallantly.
"No, of the fatigued."
"Well, scientific truth compels me to say that fatigue is a surer and stronger sedative than a clear conscience even. I know, for I have occasionally tried a clear conscience--only by way of experiment, you know," he added, apologetically.
"Well, whatever the case, I was slepping as though on downy beds of ease."
"Then my mind is lightened of a mountain-load of responsibility for having made you pass a miserable night. But let's go in to breakfast. I am opposed to doing anything on an empty stomach--even to holding a pleasant conversation. It invites malaria, and malaria brings a number of disagreeable sensations which people mistake for repentance, remorse, religious awakening, and so on, according to their mental idiosyncrasies, and the state of their digestion."
The breakfast did not help remove the unpleasant impressions already made upon her mind. The cloth that covered the coarse planks of the table was unmistakably a well-worn sheet. Tin cups and platters made humble substitution for china, and were appropriately accompanied by cast-iron knives and two tined forks.
Two Hospital Stewards--denoted by the green bands, embroidered with CADUCEI, around their arms--and the same number of Wardmasters, formed the mess which sat down with Dr. Denslow and Rachel, on benches around the table.
What bouyant cheerfulness could do to raise Rachel's spirits and give an appetizing flavor to the coarse viands, Dr. Denslow did.
"I apprehend," said he, "that you will suspect that in obtaining this steak the indefatigable cook made a mistake, and sliced a piece from a side of sole leather hanging near. This was not the case. It was selected with a deep physiological design. Meat of this character consists almost wholly of fibrine, the least heat-producing constituent of flesh. By excluding all fats and other tender portions, and confining ourselves to fibrine, we are the better able to stand this torrid weather."
One of the Hospital Stewards groaned deeply.
"What is the matter, 'Squills'?" said the Doctor, kindly.
"I was thinking of the monstrous fibber-in here," said "Squills," lugubriously.
"'Squills,' I don't know how I can properly punish the disrespect shown our young lady guest and your superior officer, by that vile pun and the viler implication contained in it."
"This sugar," continued the Doctor, lifting some out of an old tomato can with a large iron spoon, and tendering it to Rachel for her coffee, "has a rich golden color, which is totally absent from the paler varieties to which you are accustomed. Its deeper hue comes from having caught more of the Cuban yellow sun's rays."
"Yes," interjected "Squills," "all the Cuban's yellow sons raise. Their daughters, too, are sometimes almost brown."
Dr. Denslow frowned.
"What a queer odor it has," said Rachel, sniffing it, and staying the spool just over her cup.
"Has it?" said the Doctor, sniffing too. "O, that's nothing. That's only chloroform. The ants were very bad, and we put some in to kill them off."
"I don't believe I'll take any in my coffee, thank you," said Rachel, calmly. "There are times when I don't like it sweetened."
"But you'll certainly take cream, then," he said, breaking off the cover of a can of condensed milk. "Here is some put in the reverse of the homeopathic plan. Instead of being the 30th dilution, it is about the
Rachel was beguiled into smiling at his merry cynicism.
"Allusions to the pavement in the unmentionable place are barred in this connection," he continued gayly. "On my way to carry out these good intentions--at some one else's expense, remember, all the time--I was called to the bedside of a dying man, and detained there some time. When I at last returned to your room, I judged that you were fast asleep, and I decided not to disturb you."
"I think you would have found it a difficult matter to have roused me. I had sunk on the cot, and was sleeping the sleep of--"
"The just," interposed Dr. Denslow, gallantly.
"No, of the fatigued."
"Well, scientific truth compels me to say that fatigue is a surer and stronger sedative than a clear conscience even. I know, for I have occasionally tried a clear conscience--only by way of experiment, you know," he added, apologetically.
"Well, whatever the case, I was slepping as though on downy beds of ease."
"Then my mind is lightened of a mountain-load of responsibility for having made you pass a miserable night. But let's go in to breakfast. I am opposed to doing anything on an empty stomach--even to holding a pleasant conversation. It invites malaria, and malaria brings a number of disagreeable sensations which people mistake for repentance, remorse, religious awakening, and so on, according to their mental idiosyncrasies, and the state of their digestion."
The breakfast did not help remove the unpleasant impressions already made upon her mind. The cloth that covered the coarse planks of the table was unmistakably a well-worn sheet. Tin cups and platters made humble substitution for china, and were appropriately accompanied by cast-iron knives and two tined forks.
Two Hospital Stewards--denoted by the green bands, embroidered with CADUCEI, around their arms--and the same number of Wardmasters, formed the mess which sat down with Dr. Denslow and Rachel, on benches around the table.
What bouyant cheerfulness could do to raise Rachel's spirits and give an appetizing flavor to the coarse viands, Dr. Denslow did.
"I apprehend," said he, "that you will suspect that in obtaining this steak the indefatigable cook made a mistake, and sliced a piece from a side of sole leather hanging near. This was not the case. It was selected with a deep physiological design. Meat of this character consists almost wholly of fibrine, the least heat-producing constituent of flesh. By excluding all fats and other tender portions, and confining ourselves to fibrine, we are the better able to stand this torrid weather."
One of the Hospital Stewards groaned deeply.
"What is the matter, 'Squills'?" said the Doctor, kindly.
"I was thinking of the monstrous fibber-in here," said "Squills," lugubriously.
"'Squills,' I don't know how I can properly punish the disrespect shown our young lady guest and your superior officer, by that vile pun and the viler implication contained in it."
"This sugar," continued the Doctor, lifting some out of an old tomato can with a large iron spoon, and tendering it to Rachel for her coffee, "has a rich golden color, which is totally absent from the paler varieties to which you are accustomed. Its deeper hue comes from having caught more of the Cuban yellow sun's rays."
"Yes," interjected "Squills," "all the Cuban's yellow sons raise. Their daughters, too, are sometimes almost brown."
Dr. Denslow frowned.
"What a queer odor it has," said Rachel, sniffing it, and staying the spool just over her cup.
"Has it?" said the Doctor, sniffing too. "O, that's nothing. That's only chloroform. The ants were very bad, and we put some in to kill them off."
"I don't believe I'll take any in my coffee, thank you," said Rachel, calmly. "There are times when I don't like it sweetened."
"But you'll certainly take cream, then," he said, breaking off the cover of a can of condensed milk. "Here is some put in the reverse of the homeopathic plan. Instead of being the 30th dilution, it is about the