By Daniel Gorrie.
Chapter I.
Soon after I had obtained my diploma, and was dubbed M.D., an opening for a medical practitioner occurred in the pleasant village of St Dunstan, situated on the beautiful banks of the Tweed. Knowing well that I might be forestalled by a day’s delay, I bundled up my testimonials and letters of recommendation, and departed at once for the scene of action. The shadows of a calm October evening were drooping over the Eildon Hills, and the Tweed was murmuring peacefully along its winding course, when I entered the principal street of the village, and took up my quarters at the inn. After refreshing myself with such entertainment as the house afforded, I called in the landlord, told him the object of my visit, and inquired if any other medical gentlemen had yet made their appearance. Mine host was a canny, cautious Scotsman, and manifested due deliberation in a matter of so much moment. He surveyed me quietly for a short time, and did not reply until he seemed satisfied with his scrutiny.
“Na, sir,” he said at length; “ye’re the first that’s come to the toun yet, and a’ the folk are wearying for anither doctor. Ye see, we canna tell what may happen. The shoemaker’s wife took unco onweel last nicht, and, frail as he is himsel, puir man, he had to gang a’ the way to Melrose for medical advice. Ye look young like, sir; hae ye been in ony place afore?”
“No,” I replied; “it is not very long since I passed.”
“Ay, weel, that’s no sae gude; we rather like a skeely man here. Dr Sommerville had a great deal o’ experience, and we were a’ sorry when he left for Glasgow.”
“I am glad that the good people of St Dunstan liked their last doctor so well,” I rejoined, somewhat nettled at the plain-spokenness of the worthy landlord of the Cross-Keys. “But although my youth may be against me,” I continued, “here are some testimonials which I hope may prove satisfactory, and I have several letters of recommendation besides to gentlemen in the village and neighbourhood.”
The landlord was a person whom I saw that it was necessary to gain over. He was vastly pleased when I recognised his importance by producing my testimonials for his inspection. It was amusing to observe the gravity and dignity with which he adjusted his spectacles across the bridge of his nose, and proceeded to carefully inspect the documents. At intervals as he read he gave such running comments as “gude”—“very gude”—“excellent”—“capital sir, capital!” I was glad to see the barometer rising so rapidly. After mine host had finished the perusal of the papers, he shook me heartily by the hand, and said, “You’re the very man we want, sir; ye hae first-rate certificats.”
So far, so good. It was a great thing to have gained the confidence and goodwill of one important personage, and I felt desirous to make further conquests that evening.
“Do you think I might venture to call to-night upon any of the parties in the village to whom I have letters of recommendation?” I inquired.