The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife

Mary's face was a study. Jim and his sister had not seen the deaf old man in the wagon, as a low-branched pine stood between the wagon and the house. And this was the way her politeness was interpreted!

The comicality of the situation was too much. She laughed merrily and explained things to the tall girl who seemed much relieved.

“I ought to 'a' brought a knife, but I was in such a hurry I forgot it.” Eating peaches with the fuzz on was quite too much for Mary so she said, “Thank you, but we'll be starting home in a moment, I'll not have time to eat them. But I am very thirsty, might I have a glass of water?” The girl went up the walk and disappeared into the house. Mary did so want her to come out and draw the water, dripping and cool, from the old well yonder. She came out, went to the well, stooped and filled the glass from the bucket sitting inside the curb. Mary sighed. The tall girl took a step. Then, to the watcher's delight, she threw the water out, pulled the bucket up and emptied it into the trough, and one end of the creaking well-sweep started downward while the other started upward. The bucket was on its way to the cool depths and Mary grew thirstier every second.

The doctor appeared at the door and looked out. Then he came, case in hand, with swift strides down the walk. The gate banged behind him and he untied the horse in hot haste, looking savagely at his wife as he did so.

“I suppose you've asked that girl to bring you a drink.”

“Yes, I did. I'm very thirsty.”

“You ought to have more sense than to want to drink where people have typhoid fever.”

The girl started down the walk with the brimming glass. The doctor climbed into the buggy and turned around.

“For pity's sake! what will she think?”

A vigorous cut from the whip and the horse dashed off down the road. Mary cast a longing, lingering look behind. The girl stood looking after them with open mouth.

“That girl has had enough today to astonish her out of a year's growth,” thought Mary as the buggy bumped against a projecting plank and tore over the bridge at the foot of the hill.

“John, one of the rules of good driving is never to drive fast down hill.” Her spouse answered never a word.

After a little he said, “I didn't mean to be cross, Mary, but I didn't want you to drink there.”

“You should have warned me beforehand, then,” she said chillingly.

“I couldn't sit in the buggy and divine there was typhoid fever there,” she continued. “‘A woman's intuitions are safe guides’ but she has to have something to go on before she can have intuitions.”

“Hadn't you better put your ulster on, dear?” inquired the doctor in such meaning tones, that Mary turned quickly and looked off across the fields. A Black-eyed Susan by the roadside caught the smile in her eyes and nodded its yellow head and smiled mischievously back at her. It was a feminine flower and they understood each other.

When they had driven three or four miles Mary asked the doctor if there was any typhoid fever in the house they were approaching.

“How do I know?”

“I thought you might be able to divine whether there is or not.”

“We'll suppose there isn't. We'll stop and get a drink,” he answered indulgently. They stopped, Mary took the reins and the doctor went to reconnoiter.

“Nobody at home and not a vessel of any kind in sight,” he announced coming back. Of course her thirst was now raging.

“Maybe there's a gourd hanging inside the curb. If there is do break it loose and bring it to me heaping full.”

“I looked inside the curb – nothing there.”

Here Mary's anxious eyes saw a glass fruit jar turned upside down on a fence paling. Blessings on the woman who put it there! The doctor filled and brought it to her. After a long draught she uttered a sigh of rich content.

“Now,” she said, “I'm ready to go home.”

CHAPTER X

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

“Hello.”

“Is this the doctor?”

“It's one of 'em,” said John, recognizing the voice of a patient.

“Well, doctor, the other side of my throat is sore now!”

“Is it? Well, I told your husband it might be.”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, because I'm running short of coffee and a few things like that.”

A little laugh. “I don't want to keep you in coffee and things like that.”

“Nobody does. But the poor doctors have to live and you must contribute your share.” Laughter.

“All right, Doctor, but I don't want to have to contribute too much.”

“Don't be alarmed about your throat, Mrs. Channing. When I looked at it yesterday, I saw indications that the other side might be affected, but it will soon be well.”

“That sounds better. Thank you, good-bye.” When he came back to the table his wife said, “John, I shouldn't think you'd say things like that to people.”

“Why?”

“Well, they might believe 'em.” The doctor laughed, swallowed his cup of tea and departed.

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Three times.

“Hello.”

“Is Dr. Blank at home?”

“He has just this minute left for the office. 'Phone him there in two minutes and you will get him.”

Mary went back, took two bites and when the third was suspended on her fork the 'phone rang.

“Somebody else,” she thought, laying the fork down and rising.

“Oh! I've got you again, Mrs. Blank. You said to ring in two minutes and I'd get the doctor.”

“But you didn't wait one minute.”

“It seemed lots longer. All right, I'll wait.”

“People expect a doctor to get there in less than no time,” thought Mary. “John walks so fast I felt safe in telling her to 'phone him in two minutes.”

Buzz-z-z-z-z, as if all the machinery of the universe were let loose in her ear. She had held the receiver till her husband could reach the office so she might feel assured the anxious one had found him. Yes, that was his voice.

“Dr. Blank, you're president of the board of health, ain't ye?”

“Yes – guess so.”

“This is Jack Johnson's. There's a dead horse down here by our house an' I want you to come down here an' bury it.” Our listener heard the woman's teeth snap together.

“All right. I'll get a spade and come right along.”

“What do they take my husband for,” thought Mary.

Buzz-z-z-z at her ear again. Now it was her husband's voice saying,

“Give me number forty-five.”

In a minute a gentlemanly voice said, “Hello.”

“Is this you, Warner?”

“Yes.”

“There's a dead horse down by Jack Johnson's. Go down there and bury it.”

“All right, Doc. I'll be right along.”

A burst of laughter from the doctor was echoed by Warner. Mary knew that Warner was the newly elected alderman and she smiled as she pictured the new officer leaving his elegant home and going down to perform the obsequies. Nevertheless her heart leaned toward Jack Johnson's wife, for it was plain to be seen that neither the new president of the board of health nor the new alderman had a realizing sense of his duties.

Half an hour later three rings sounded.

“Is this Dr. Blank's office?”

“No, his residence.”

“Well, I see by the paper he's on the board of health and we want this manure-pile taken away from here.”

“Please 'phone your complaints to the doctor,” said Mary, calmly replacing the receiver and shutting off the flood.

“John's existence will be made miserable by this new honor thrust upon him,” she thought.

When he came home that evening she asked if the second complainant had found him.

“Yes, she found me all right.”

“They're going to make day hideous and night lamented, aren't they?”

“O, no. I'll just have a little fun and then send someone to look after their complaints.”

Just before bed-time the doctor was called to the 'phone.

“Doctor, this is the nurse at the hotel. What had I better do with this Polish girl's hand?”

“Doesn't it look all right?”

“Yes, it's doing fine.”

“Just let it alone, then.”

“She won't be satisfied. She thinks we ought to be doing something to it. And I've got to do something or she'll go off upstairs and wash it in dirty water.”

“Tell her not to do anything of the kind.”

“She can't understand a word I say and I don't know what to do with her. She's had the bandage off once already.”

“The devil she has! Well, then you'll have to unwrap it, I guess, and pretend to do something. But it would be better to let it alone.”

“I know that.”

“How is the other patient tonight?”

“Doing fine, Doctor.”

“Good! Good-bye.”

There was a spacious, airy, upper chamber opening out on a balcony at the doctor's house which the doctor and Mary claimed for theirs. Not now; O no! But in the beautiful golden sometime when the telephone ceased from troubling and the weary ones might rest. This meant when the doctor should retire from night practice. Until that happy time they occupied a smaller room on the first floor as it was near the telephone. Mary had steadfastly refused to have the privacy of her upper rooms invaded by the tyrant.

One warm summer night when bed-time came she made the announcement that she was going upstairs to sleep in the big room.

“But what if I should be called out in the night?” asked her husband, with protest in his voice.

“Then I'd be safer up there than down here,” said Mary, calmly.

“But I mean you couldn't hear the 'phone.”

“That is a consummation devoutly to be wished.”

“Now don't go off up there,” expostulated John. “You always hear it and I sort of depend on you to get me awake.”

“Exactly. But it's a good thing for a man to depend on himself once in awhile. I was awake so often last night that I'm too tired and sleepy to argue. But I'm going. Good night.”

“Thunder!”

“It doesn't ring every night,” said Mary, comfortingly from the landing. “Let us retire in the fond belief that curfew will not ring tonight.”

When she retired she fell at once into deep sleep. For two hours she slept sweetly on. Then she was instantly aroused. The figure of a man stood by her side. In the moonlight she saw him plainly, clad in black. Her heart was coming up into her throat when a voice said,

“Mary, I have to go two miles into the country.”

“Why didn't you call me, John, instead of standing there and scaring me to death?”

“I did call you but I couldn't get you awake.”

“Then you ought to have let me be. If a woman hasn't a right to a night's sleep once in awhile what is she entitled to?”

This petulance was unusual with his wife. “Well, come on down now, Mary,” he said, kindly.

“I'm not going down there this night.”

“But you can't hear the 'phone up here and I'm expecting a message any minute that must be answered.”

“I'll – hear – that – 'phone,” said Mary. “I'll sleep with one ear and one eye open.”

“Have it your own way,” said the doctor as he started down the stairs.

“I intend to. But when I tell you I'll watch the 'phone, John, you know I'll do it.”

He was gone and she lay wide awake. It seemed very hard to be ruthlessly pulled from a sleep so deep and delicious and so much needed.

By and by her eye-lids began to feel heavy and her thoughts went wandering into queer places. “This won't do,” she said aloud, sitting up in bed. Then she rose and went out on to the balcony. Seating herself in an arm chair, she looked about her on the silvery loveliness. The cricket's chirr and the occasional affirmations of the katy-did were the only sounds she heard. “I didn't say you didn't. Don't be so spiteful about it.”

The moon, shining through the branches of the big oak tree made faintly-flickering shadows at her feet. The white hammock, stirring occasionally as a breeze touched it, invited her. She went over to it and lay for many minutes looking up, noting how fast the moon glided from one branch of the tree to another. Now it neared the trunk. Now a slice was cut off its western rim. Now it was only a half moon – “a bweak-moon on the sky,” as her little boy had called it. Now there was a total eclipse. When it began peeping out on the other side of the trunk our watcher's dreamful eyes took no note of it. A dog barked. She sprang up and seated herself in the chair again. She dare not trust herself to the hammock. It was too seductive and too delightful. So she sat erect and waited for the ring which might not come but which must be watched for just the same. Her promise had gone forth. Far up the street she heard horses' hoofs – it must be John returning. The buggy-top shining in the moonlight came into view. No, it was a white horse. Her vigil was not yet ended. A quarter of an hour later she discerned a figure far down the walk. She followed it with her eyes. It moved swiftly on. Would it turn at the corner and come up toward their house? Yes, it was turning. Then it turned into the yard. It was John. She went forward and leaning over the railing called down to him, “A good chance to play Romeo now, John.” John only grunted – after the manner of husbands.

“Nobody rang. I'm going to bed again. Good night – I mean good morning.”

The next night was hotter than ever and Mary made up her mind she would sleep up in the hammock. She had had a delicious taste of it which made her wish for more. To avoid useless discussion she would wait till John retired and was asleep, then she would quietly steal away. But when this was accomplished and she had settled herself comfortably to sleep she found herself wide awake. She closed her eyes and gently wooed slumber, but it came not. Ah, now she knew! The night before she had shaken off all responsibility for the 'phone. Therefore she could sleep. Tonight her husband lay unconscious of her absence and the burden of it was upon her shoulders again. Well, she must try to sleep anyway, this was too good a chance to lose. She fell asleep. After awhile dinner was ready. Mollie had rung the little bell for the boys. Now she was ringing it again. Where can the boys have got to? Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Mary sat up in the hammock and rubbed her eyes.

“Oh!” she sprang out and rushed to the stairs. “Doctor!”

“John!” The snores continued. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling!

“Oh, dear!” gasped Mary, hurrying down as fast as her feet could take her. Straight to the 'phone she went. It must be appeased first.

“Hello?”

“Hell-o! Where's the doctor?”

“He is very fast asleep.”

“I've found that out. Can you get him awake?” Sharp impatience was in the man's voice.

“Hold the 'phone a minute, please, and I'll rouse him.”

She went into the bedroom and calling, “John! John!” shook him soundly by the shoulders. He sat up in bed with a wild look.

“Go to the 'phone, quick!” commanded Mary.

“Eh?”

“Go to the 'phone. It's been ringing like fury. Hurry.”

At last he was there and his wife knew by his questions and answers that he would be out for the rest of the night. She crept into bed. After he was gone she would go upstairs. When he was dressed he came to the door and peered in.

“That's right, Mary,” he said, with such hearty satisfaction in his tones that she answered cheerfully, “All right – I'll stay this time.”

And when he was gone she turned her face from the moonlit window and slept till morning, oblivious to the thieves and murderers that did not come.

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

“Is the doctor there?”

“He was called out awhile ago; will be back in perhaps twenty minutes.”

“This is Mr. Cowan. I only wanted to ask if my wife could have some lemonade this morning. She is very thirsty and craves it – but I can call again after awhile.”

How discouraging to the feverish, thirsty wife to have her husband come back and tell her he would 'phone again after awhile. And if, after waiting, he still failed to find the doctor? Mary knew the Cowans quite well so she made bold to say, hastily, “I think the doctor would say yes.”

“You think he would?” asked Mr. Cowan, hopefully.

“I think he would, but don't let her have too much, of course.”

“All right. Thank you, Mrs. Blank.”

An uneasy feeling came into Mary's mind and would not depart as she went about her work. Really, what right had she to prescribe for a sick woman even so harmless a thing as lemonade. How did she know that it was harmless. Perhaps in this case there was some combination of symptoms which would make that very thing the thing the patient ought not to have.

In about fifteen minutes there came a ring – three. Mary started guiltily. It sounded like the doctor's ring. Was he going to reprimand her? But it was the voice of a friend and it surprised Mary with this question:

“Mrs. Blank, if you were me would you have your daughter operated upon?”

“Operated upon for what?”

“For appendicitis.”

“Nettie, let me tell you something: if I had no more sense than to give you advice on such a question as that, I certainly hope you would have more sense than to take it. Advice about a thing with no sort of knowledge of that thing is as worthless as it is common.”

“Why – I thought since you are a doctor's wife you would know about it.”

“Can you draw up a legal will because you happen to be the wife of a lawyer?”

“No-o, but – ”

“But me no buts,” quoth Mary. “We're even now.”

“Well, I've heard it said a doctor's wife knows even less than many others about ills and their remedies because she is so used to depending on her husband that she never has to think of them herself. I guess I'd better talk to the doctor. I just thought I'd see what you said first. Good-bye.”

“My skirts are clear of any advice in that direction,” thought Mary, her mind reverting again to the lemonade.

“Nettie couldn't have 'phoned me at a more opportune minute to get the right answer. But I wonder if John is back. I'll see.” She rang.

“Hello.”

“Say, John, Mr. Cowan 'phoned awhile ago, and his wife was very thirsty and craved lemonade and – don't scold – I took the liberty of saying – it's awful for a thirsty person to have to wait and wait you know – and so I said I thought you would say she might have it.”

“I hope you weren't this long about it,” laughed her husband.

“Then it was all right?”

“Certainly.” Much relieved Mary hung up the receiver. “What needless apprehension assails us sometimes,” she thought, as she went singing to her broom.

“Just the same, I won't prescribe very often.”

CHAPTER XI

It was five o'clock in the morning when the doctor heard the call and made his way to it. His wife was roused too and was a passive listener.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Down where? I don't understand you.”

“On what street?.. Down near Dyre's? I don't know any such family.” Here Mary called out, “Maybe they mean Dye's.”

“Dye's? Yes, I know where that is… Galliver – that's the name is it? Very well, Mrs. Galliver, I'll be down in a little while… Yes, just as soon as I can dress and get there.”

He proceeded to clothe himself very deliberately, but years of repression had taught Mary resignation.

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Three rings.

The doctor went with shoe in hand and again his wife was a listener.

“Yes… Yes… I'm just getting ready to go to see a patient… It's a hurry call, is it? All right then, I'll come there first… Yes, right away.”

As he put up the receiver he said to his wife, “Somebody else was trying to get me then, too, but couldn't make it.” Mary thought it well he couldn't since her husband was only one and indivisible.

“But he will probably try again after a little,” she thought, “and John will be gone and I won't know just where to find him.”

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. Collar in hand the doctor went.

“Yes… Who is this?.. Come where?.. Jackson street. Right next to Wilson's mill?.. On which side? I say on which side of Wilson's mill?.. West? All right, I'll be down there after awhile… No, not right away; I have to make two other visits first, but as soon as I can get there.”

When at last he was dressed and his hand was on the door-knob the 'phone called him back.

“You say I needn't come… Very well. I'll come if you want me to though, Mrs. Galliver. I'm just starting now. I have to see another patient first.” —

“Why John,” interposed Mary from the bedroom, “She called you first.”

“It will be about half an hour before I can get there… All right, I'll be there.”

Then Mary remembered that No. 2 was the hurry call and was silent. When the doctor was gone she fell asleep but only for two minutes.

She went to answer the call. “Has the doctor started yet?”

“Yes, he is on his way.”

“All right then,” and the relief in the tone was a pleasant thing to hear.

“Now, if I go to sleep again I can feel no security from No. 1 or No. 3 or both.” Nevertheless she did go to sleep and neither No. 1 nor No. 3 called her out of it.

“I must be going,” said Mary, rising from her chair in a neighbor's house.

“Have you something special on hand?” asked her neighbor.

“Yes, it's clock-winding day at our house, for one thing.”

“Why, how many clocks do you have to wind?” inquired the little old lady with mild surprise.

“Only one, thank heaven!” ejaculated Mary as she departed.

When she had sped across the yard and entered her own door she threw off her shawl and made ready to wind the clock. First, she turned off the gas in the grate so that her skirts would not catch fire. Second, she brought a chair and set it on the hearth in front of the grate. Third, she went into the next room and got the big unabridged dictionary, brought it out and put it on the chair. Fourth, she went back and got the oldest and thickest Family Bible and the fat Bible Dictionary, brought them out and deposited them on the unabridged. Fifth, she mounted the chair. Sixth, she mounted the volumes – which brought her up to the height she was seeking to attain. Seventh, she wound the clock; that is, she usually did. Today, when she had inserted the key and turned it twice round – the 'phone rang. Oh, dear! Thank goodness it stopped at two rings. She would take it for granted the doctor was in the office. She wound on. Then she took the key out and inserted it on the opposite side. A second peal. That settled it. If it were a lawyer's or a merchant's or any other man's 'phone she could wind the other side first – but the doctor's is in the imperative mood and the present tense. She must descend. Slowly and cautiously she did so, went to the 'phone and put the receiver to her ear.

“Hello, is this Dr. Blank's office?”

“This is his – ”

“Hello, what is it?” said her husband's voice. “Now why couldn't he have come a minute sooner,” thought Mary, provoked.

“Doctor,” said an agitated voice, “my little boy has swallowed a penny.”

“Was it a good one?” inquired the doctor, calmly.

“Why – ye-es,” said the voice, broken with a laugh, “guess it was.”

“Just let him alone. It will be all right after awhile.”

“It was worth getting down to hear so comforting an assurance,” said Mary as she ascended again the chair and the volumes. She finished her weekly task, then slowly and cautiously descended, carried the big books back to their places, set the chair in its corner and lighted the gas. She stood for a moment looking up at this clock. The space over the mantel-piece was just the place for it and it was only after it had been firmly anchored to the wall that the thought had arisen, “How can I ever get up there to wind it?”

She smiled as she thought of a social gathering a few days before, when a lady had called to her across the room, “Mrs. Blank, tell us that clock story again.” And she had answered:

“It isn't much of a story, but it serves to show the manner in which we computed the time. One night the doctor woke me up. ‘Mary,’ he said in a helpless sort of way, ‘It struck seven– what time is it?’ ‘Well – let me see,’ I said. ‘If it struck seven it meant to strike three, for it strikes four ahead of time. And if it meant to strike three it's just a quarter past two, for it's three quarters of an hour too fast.’” Ting-a-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

Mary recognized her husband's ring. “Yes, what is it John?”

“I'm going out for twenty minutes, watch the 'phone, please.”