“We’re wonderful glad t’ see you, Doctor Joe,” said Thomas. “I’ve been wonderin’, now, why you didn’t come over this fortnight. The boys pulled over to Break Cove yesterday lookin’ for you, fearin’ you might be ailin’.”
“And didn’t find me!” exclaimed Doctor Joe, helping himself liberally to fish. “Well, the day after I was here I left for Fort Pelican to meet the mail boat and get some medicines that I thought I might need in the winter from the mail boat doctor, and to mail an important letter. How have you all been?”
“Not so bad—except Jamie,” said Thomas. “His eyes are growin’ mistier.”
“Eh!” ejaculated Doctor Joe, looking down at Jamie. “Mistier, are they? That’s what I’m here about—mostly—to see what we can do about that mist. We’ll have a look at the eyes pretty soon, Jamie.”
“I’m thinkin’ ’tis truly a mist fallin’ thick, and holdin’ thick all the time,” declared Jamie.
“We’ll see about that! We’ll see!” said Doctor Joe.
And after breakfast he again looked carefully into Jamie’s eyes, and again asked Jamie many, many questions, and then walked out with Thomas where they could talk alone.
“And what you think’n now of Jamie’s eyes?” asked Thomas anxiously.
“’Tis a strange disease, and a serious one,” said Doctor Joe. “Inside everybody’s eyes there’s a fluid forms. When the eyes are healthy the fluid keeps working away naturally through small outlets. If the outlets for the fluid get stopped, there’s no way for it to escape, and it fills up inside until it presses on the eyes, and the sight begins to fail, and after a time if the fluid is not let out the eyes go blind. There’s only one way to cure the complaint, and that is by a difficult and delicate operation for the purposes of opening the passages and drawing the fluid out and relieving the pressure.”
“Do you mean—cuttin’ the eyes open?” asked Thomas in dismay.