"Frosted, indeed! poor child! Well, what have you done for them?"
"Nothing—only I greased them sometimes at night; and to-day my master made me stand in the snow."
"The cruel wretch!" muttered Doctor R—between his teeth. "But can't you walk up as far as the drug store at the corner, and let me see your feet?" continued the doctor.
"Yes, sir" replied the child, though he felt that to take another step was almost impossible.
"You'll come right up, will you," urged the doctor.
"Yes, sir," returned Henry, in a low voice.
"Then I'll wait for you. But come along as quickly as you can;" and so saying, the doctor drove off. But he could not help glancing back, after he had gone on about the distance of half a square, for his heart misgave him for not having taken the little fellow into his carriage. He soon caught a glimpse of him on the sidewalk, slowly and laboriously endeavoring to work his way along, but evidently with extreme suffering. He at once gave directions to the driver to turn back; and taking Henry into the carriage, hurried on to the office. The child, when lifted in, sank back upon the seat, pale and exhausted. Doctor R—asked him no question; and when the carriage stopped, directed the driver to carry him in. He then, with his own hands, carefully removed his shoes and stockings. "My poor, poor child!" said he in pity and astonishment, on beholding the condition of Henry's feet. The harsh remedy prescribed by Sharp, if the subsequent treatment had been tender and judicious, might have been salutary; but, after it, to confine the boy's feet in hard, tight new shoes, and to send him out upon the street, was to induce a high state of inflammation, and, in the advanced state of the chilblains, to endanger mortification. Several of the large ulcerous cracks, which were bleeding freely, the doctor dressed, and then, cutting a number of short strips of adhesive plaster, he applied them to the skin over the heel and foot, in various directions, so as almost completely to cover every portion of the surface.
"How does that feel?" he asked, looking into Henry's face with an air of relief and satisfaction after he had finished the first foot.
"It feels a good deal better," replied the child, his voice and the expression of his countenance both indicating that he no longer suffered so excruciatingly as he had but a short time previously.
The other foot was soon dressed in the same way. Doctor R—then went back into the house and got a loose pair of stockings and a light pair of shoes, belonging to one of the apothecary's children, from their mother. These fitted Henry comfortably, and when he stood down upon his feet he did not experience any pain.