"It is the first time I ever attempted anything of the kind," said Rich; "it shall be the last. I'll stick to dogs, cats, and rabbits till I have money to procure what I need."
CHAPTER XXI. PROGRESS AND PREJUDICE.
There was a mystery connected with Richardson's lameness that the village gossips could never fathom. He was too important a personage to escape comment. It was well known that he was so lame as to be compelled to ride to school on three consecutive days; and yet Sam Waterhouse declared he met him and talked with him at the old graveyard at three o'clock on the morning he put his foot in the trap, and that he did not appear to be much lame. Sam, however, was in the habit of drinking too freely of New England rum, and always took a jug with him when on the road; thus the majority, after a while, concluded Waterhouse had made too free with the contents of his jug, and imagined it all.
Rich, after this, assisted in several important operations in which the two doctors were engaged. He likewise, when he could do it and not interfere with his school, opened sores, administered medicines, let blood, and dressed wounds, at the request of Dr. Ryan, who lost no opportunity of bringing him forward, and became more and more attached to him every day.
When bones were to be set, Dr. Ryan, if the fracture was in any respect a bad one, sent for Dr. Slaughter; but, as his own practice was large, often relinquished the subsequent care of the fracture to Rich, and paid him for it. In this manner, and by rigid economy, he was enabled to lay by a considerable sum, besides purchasing some necessary instruments and books.
The good doctor was well aware that whenever he left the care of a patient to Rich, whether it was a case of disease, or a wound, or broken bone, that he practised a treatment quite different from the established method; but as the patients generally did well, he made no troublesome inquiries, and even turned a deaf ear to the hints of Dr. Slaughter in respect to innovations upon the good old substantial practice.
It was very hot weather, the middle of August, and a lad of seventeen received a terrible cut in his thigh, by coming too near his father while he was mowing oats. Dr. Ryan was away from home, attending the funeral of a near relative in a distant town; the family instantly sent for Rich. The wound, fortunately, was worse in appearance than reality, as no artery was severed, though the gash presented a most formidable appearance to inexperienced persons, and the parents were very much alarmed.