“My face is red with exposure to all weathers, attending ignorant people like you. I never touch alcohol in any form.”
“No, an’ I dunna. I drink a drop o’ beer, if that’s what you ca’ touchin’ alcohol. An’ I’m none th’ wuss for it, tha sees.”
“You’ve heard what I’ve told you.”
“Ah, I have.”
“And if you go on with the beer, you may go on with curing yourself. I shan’t attend you. You know I mean what I say, Mrs. Larrick”—this to the wife.
“I do, doctor. And I know it’s true what you say. An’ I’m at him night an’ day about it—”
“Oh well, if he will hear no reason, he must suffer for it. He mustn’t think I’m going to be running after him, if he disobeys my orders.” And the doctor stalked off, and the woman began to complain.
None the less the women had their complaints against Dr. Mitchell. If ever Alvina entered a clean house on a wet day, she was sure to hear the housewife chuntering.
“Oh my lawk, come in nurse! What a day! Doctor’s not been yet. And he’s bound to come now I’ve just cleaned up, trapesin’ wi’ his gret feet. He’s got the biggest understandin’s of any man i’ Lancaster. My husband says they’re the best pair o’ pasties i’ th’ kingdom. An’ he does make such a mess, for he never stops to wipe his feet on th’ mat, marches straight up your clean stairs—”
“Why don’t you tell him to wipe his feet?” said Alvina.