The Red Acorn [66]
30th concentration. With this little can, and his pump in good order, a milkman could supply a good big route with 'pure grass-fed milk.' Within these narrow walls are compressed the nutritive juices of an acre of fragrant white clover."
"The Doctor was formerly a lecturer in a medical college," said "Squills" "sotto voce" to Rachel.
Rachel's appetite had seemed sufficient for almost any food, but she confined her breakfast to two or three crackers of hard bread, and a few sups of coffee. The pleasantry had failed of its desired effect. It was like vinegar upon niter, or the singing of songs to an heavy heart.
As they rose from the table the Doctor informed her that he and the Stewards were about to make their morning round of the wards, and that she had better accompany them. She went along without a word.
They walked slowly up and down the long aisles behind the Doctor, who stopped before each cot, and closely examined its occupant's tongue, pulse, and other indicators of his condition, and gave prescriptions, which the Steward wrote down, as to medicine and food. What was better still were his words of sympathy for the very ill and of cheery encouragement for the convalescent, which he bestowed upon every one.
"A visit from Dr. Denslow does a sick man more good," whispered "Squills" to Rachel, as he saw her eyes light up with admiration at the Doctor's tactful kindliness, "than all the drugs in the dispensary. I sometiems believe he's one of them that can cure by a simple laying-on of hands. He's just the opposite of old Moxon, who'd counteract the effect of the best medicine in the world."
"No. 19, Quin. Sulph., grains 16; make four powders, one every three hours," continued "Squills," repeating the directions as he received them, "Spiritus Frumenti, 1 oz., at evening. No. 2 diet. No. 20, Dover's powder 10 grains, at bedtime. No 1 diet. You," addressing himself to Rachel again, "will do even better than Dr. Denslow, soon. Can't you see how the mere sight of you brightens up everybody around here?"
Rachel had no reply ready for so broad a compliment, but its assertion of her high usefulness went far to reconcile her to her position.
She wondered silently if her mission was to be confined to posing as a thing of beauty and a joy forever.
This differed much from her expectations, for she dreaded at each step lest the next bring her fact to face with some horrible task, which she would be expected to undertake. But the Doctor, with his usual tact, was almost imperceptibly inducting her into her duties.
"Would Miss Bond kindly shake this powder into that cup of water and give it to that boy?"
She did so, and was rewarded by the recipient's grateful look, as he said:
"It don't seem at all nasty when YOU give it to me."
"Would she hand tht one this bit of magnesia for his heartburn?"
It was a young Irishman, who received the magnesia with a gallant speech:
"Faith, your white fingers have made it swater than loaf-sugar."
Rachel colored deeply, and those within hearing laughed.
At the next cot a feverish boy tossed wearily. Rachel noticed the uncomfortable arrangement of the folded blanket which did duty as a pillow. She stepped quickly to the head of the cot, took the blanket out, refolded it with a few deft, womanly motinos, and replaced it with a cool surface uppermost.
"O, that is SO good," murmured the boy, half-unclosing his eyes. "It's just as mother would've done."
Dr. Denslow looked earnest approval.
Rachel began to feel an interest kindling in her work. It was not in a womanly nature to resist this cordial appreciation of all she did.
A few cots farther on a boy wanted a letter written home. She was provided with stationary, and taking her place by the side of the cot, received his instructions, and wrote to his anxious parents the first news they had from their only son since they had been informed, two weeks before, that he had been sent to the hospital. When she had finished she rejoined the Doctor, who had by this time nearly completed
"The Doctor was formerly a lecturer in a medical college," said "Squills" "sotto voce" to Rachel.
Rachel's appetite had seemed sufficient for almost any food, but she confined her breakfast to two or three crackers of hard bread, and a few sups of coffee. The pleasantry had failed of its desired effect. It was like vinegar upon niter, or the singing of songs to an heavy heart.
As they rose from the table the Doctor informed her that he and the Stewards were about to make their morning round of the wards, and that she had better accompany them. She went along without a word.
They walked slowly up and down the long aisles behind the Doctor, who stopped before each cot, and closely examined its occupant's tongue, pulse, and other indicators of his condition, and gave prescriptions, which the Steward wrote down, as to medicine and food. What was better still were his words of sympathy for the very ill and of cheery encouragement for the convalescent, which he bestowed upon every one.
"A visit from Dr. Denslow does a sick man more good," whispered "Squills" to Rachel, as he saw her eyes light up with admiration at the Doctor's tactful kindliness, "than all the drugs in the dispensary. I sometiems believe he's one of them that can cure by a simple laying-on of hands. He's just the opposite of old Moxon, who'd counteract the effect of the best medicine in the world."
"No. 19, Quin. Sulph., grains 16; make four powders, one every three hours," continued "Squills," repeating the directions as he received them, "Spiritus Frumenti, 1 oz., at evening. No. 2 diet. No. 20, Dover's powder 10 grains, at bedtime. No 1 diet. You," addressing himself to Rachel again, "will do even better than Dr. Denslow, soon. Can't you see how the mere sight of you brightens up everybody around here?"
Rachel had no reply ready for so broad a compliment, but its assertion of her high usefulness went far to reconcile her to her position.
She wondered silently if her mission was to be confined to posing as a thing of beauty and a joy forever.
This differed much from her expectations, for she dreaded at each step lest the next bring her fact to face with some horrible task, which she would be expected to undertake. But the Doctor, with his usual tact, was almost imperceptibly inducting her into her duties.
"Would Miss Bond kindly shake this powder into that cup of water and give it to that boy?"
She did so, and was rewarded by the recipient's grateful look, as he said:
"It don't seem at all nasty when YOU give it to me."
"Would she hand tht one this bit of magnesia for his heartburn?"
It was a young Irishman, who received the magnesia with a gallant speech:
"Faith, your white fingers have made it swater than loaf-sugar."
Rachel colored deeply, and those within hearing laughed.
At the next cot a feverish boy tossed wearily. Rachel noticed the uncomfortable arrangement of the folded blanket which did duty as a pillow. She stepped quickly to the head of the cot, took the blanket out, refolded it with a few deft, womanly motinos, and replaced it with a cool surface uppermost.
"O, that is SO good," murmured the boy, half-unclosing his eyes. "It's just as mother would've done."
Dr. Denslow looked earnest approval.
Rachel began to feel an interest kindling in her work. It was not in a womanly nature to resist this cordial appreciation of all she did.
A few cots farther on a boy wanted a letter written home. She was provided with stationary, and taking her place by the side of the cot, received his instructions, and wrote to his anxious parents the first news they had from their only son since they had been informed, two weeks before, that he had been sent to the hospital. When she had finished she rejoined the Doctor, who had by this time nearly completed