"'What do you find the matter there, doctor?' Mr. Camper asked, after I had finished my examination.
"'A very serious injury, sir, I am sorry to say,' was my reply.
"'Of what nature?' was his somewhat stern inquiry.
"'Her knee-pan is fractured, sir; but so much swollen, that I cannot, now, fully ascertain the extent of the injury.'"
"Henry!" cried the old man in a quick, eager tone to an attendant, "go again for doctor L—; and if he is not in, go for doctor R—; and if you cannot find him, call on doctor T—, and ask him to come instantly."
The attendant hurriedly departed, when Mr. Camper turned slowly towards me, with a mingled expression of anger, pain, and contempt, upon his face, and said, in a stern voice,
"'Go home young man! and quit drinking wine, or quit the profession!
You are in no fit state to undertake a case like this.'
"It came upon me like a peal of thunder from an unclouded summer sky. It was the knell of newly-awakened hopes—the darkening of newly-opening prospects. Silently I turned away under the cutting rebuke, and left the house."
"Really, that was most unfortunate!" his friend Everett remarked, with earnest sympathy.
"Could anything have been more unfortunate, or more mortifying. Her case was one that I fully understood; and could have treated successfully. It would have brought me into contact with the family for six months, or more, and the eclat which I should have derived from the case, would have given me a prominence as a young surgeon, that I am afraid the fact of my losing the case under such mortifying circumstances, will prevent me ever attaining in this city."