said the doctor.
"Oh, sir, I have thought of it long, and my choice has been long and firmly decided, were I only free to follow it."
"Speak, lad; what is your choice?"
"Why, don"t you know, sir? Can"t you guess? Why, your own profession, of course, sir! certainly, sir, I could not think of any other!" exclaimed the boy, with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks.
"That"s my own lad!" exclaimed the doctor, enthusiastically, seizing the boy"s hand with one of his and clapping the other down upon his palm--for if the doctor had an admiration in the world it was for his own profession. "That"s my own lad! My profession! the healing art! Why, it is the only profession worthy the study of an immortal being! Law sets people by the ears together. Divinity should never be considered as a profession--it is a divine mission! Physic--physic, my boy! the healing art! that"s the profession for you! And I am very glad to hear you declare for it, too, for now the way is perfectly clear!"
Both mother and son looked up in surprise.
"Yes, the way is perfectly clear! Nothing is easier! Traverse shall come and read medicine in my office! I shall be glad to have the lad there.
It will amuse me to give him instruction occasionally. I have a positive mania for teaching!"
"And for doing good! Oh, sir, how have we deserved this kindness at your hands, and how shall we ever, ever repay it?" cried Mrs. Rocke, in a broken voice, while the tears filled her gentle eyes.
"Oh, pooh, pooh! a mere nothing, ma"am! a mere nothing for me to do, whatever it may prove to him. It is very hard, indeed, if I am to be crushed under a cart-load of thanks for doing something for a boy I like, when it does not cost me a cent of money or a breath of effort!"
"Oh, sir, your generous refusal of our thanks does but deepen our obligation!" said Marah, still weeping.
"Now, my dear madam, will you persist in making me confess that it is all selfishness on my part? I like the boy, I tell you! I shall like his bright, cheerful face in my office! I can make him very useful to me; also----"
"Oh, sir, if you can and will only make him useful to you----"
"Why, to be sure I can and will! He can act as my clerk, keep my accounts, write my letters, drive out with me and sit in the rig while I go in to visit my patients, for though I have pretty much retired from practice, still----"
"Still you visit and prescribe for the sick poor, gratis!" added Marah, feelingly.
"Pooh, pooh! habit, madam--habit! "ruling pa.s.sion strong as death," etc.
I can"t for the life of me keep from giving people bread pills. And now, by the way, I must be off to see some of my patients in Staunton.
Traverse, my lad--my young medical a.s.sistant, I mean--are you willing to go with me?"
"Oh, sir," said the boy, and here his voice broke down with emotion.
"Come along, then," laughed the doctor; "You shall drive with me into the village as a commencement."
Traverse got his hat, while the doctor held out his hand to Mrs. Rocke, who, with her eyes full of tears and her voice faltering with emotion, began again to thank him, when he good-humoredly interrupted her by saying:
"Now my good little woman, do pray, hush. I"m a selfish fellow, as you"ll see. I do nothing but what pleases my own self and makes me happy. Good-by; G.o.d bless you, madam," he said, cordially shaking her hand. "Come, Traverse," he added, hurriedly striding out of the door and through the yard to the gate, before which the old green gig and sorrel mare were still waiting.
"Traverse, I brought you out again to-day more especially to speak of your mother and her state of health," said Doctor Day, very seriously, as they both took their seats in the gig and drove on toward the town.
"Traverse, your mother is in no immediate danger of death; in fact, she has no disease whatever."
"Oh, sir, you do not think her ill, then! I thought you did not, from the fact that you never felt her pulse or gave her a prescription,"
exclaimed Traverse, delightedly, for in one thing the lad resembled his mother--he was sensitive and excitable--easily depressed and easily exhilarated.
"Traverse, I said your mother is in no immediate danger of death, for that, in fact, she has no disease; but yet, Traverse, brace yourself up, for I am about to strike you a heavy blow. Traverse, Marah Rocke is starving!"
"Starving! Heaven of heavens! no! that is not so! it cannot be! My mother starving! oh, horrible! horrible! But, doctor, it cannot--cannot be! Why, we have two meals a day at our house!" cried the boy, almost beside himself with agitation.
"Lad, there are other starvations besides the total lack of food. There are slow starvations and divers ones. Marah Rocke is starving slowly and in every way--mind, soul and body. Her body is slowly wasting from the want of proper nutriment, her heart from the want of human sympathy, her mind from the need of social intercourse. Her whole manner of life must be changed if she is to live at all."
"Oh, sir, I understand you now. I feel, I feel that you speak the very truth. Something must be done. I must do something. What shall it be?
Oh, advise me, sir."
"I must reflect a little, Traverse," said the doctor, thoughtfully, as he drove along with very slack reins.
"And, oh, how thoughtless of me! I forgot--indeed, I did, sir--when I so gladly accepted your offer for me to read with you. I forgot that if I spent every day reading in your office, my mother would sadly miss the dollar and a half a week I make by doing odd jobs in town."
"But I did not forget it, boy; rest easy upon that score; and now let me reflect how we can best serve your good little mother," said the doctor; and he drove slowly and thoughtfully along for about twenty minutes before he spoke again, when he said:
"Traverse, Monday is the first of the month. You shall set in with me then. Come to me, therefore, on Monday, and I think by that time I shall have thought upon some plan for your mother. In the mean time, you make as much money at jobs as you can, and also you must accept from me for her a bottle or so of port wine and a turkey or two. Tell her, if she demurs, that it is the doctor"s prescription, and that, for fear of accident, he always prefers to send his own physic."
"Oh, Doctor Day, if I could only thank you aright!" cried Traverse.
"Pooh, pooh! nonsense! there is no time for it. Here we are at Spicer"s grocery store, where I suppose you are again employed. Yes? Well, jump out, then. You can still make half a day. Mind, remember on Monday next, December 1st, you enter my office as my medical student, and by that time I shall have some plan arranged for your mother. Good-by; G.o.d bless you, lad," said the good doctor, as he drove off and left Traverse standing in the genial autumn sunshine, with his heart swelling and his eyes overflowing with excess of grat.i.tude and happiness.
CHAPTER XV.
CAP"S COUNTRY CAPERS.
"A willful elf--an uncle"s child, That half a pet and half a pest, Was still reproved, endured, caressed, Yet never tamed, though never spoiled."
Capitola at first was delighted and half incredulous at the great change in her fortunes. The s.p.a.cious and comfortable mansion of which she found herself the little mistress; the high rank of the veteran officer who claimed her as his ward and niece; the abundance, regularity and respectability of her new life; the leisure, the privacy, the attendance of servants, were all so different from anything to which she had previously been accustomed that there were times when she doubted its reality and distrusted her own ident.i.ty.
Sometimes of a morning, after a very vivid dream of the alleys, cellars and gutters, ragpickers, newsboys, and beggars of New York, she would open her eyes upon her own comfortable chamber, with its glowing fire and crimson curtains, and bright mirror crowning the walnut bureau between them, she would jump up and gaze wildly around, not remembering where she was or how she came thither.
Sometimes, suddenly startled by an intense realization of the contrast between her past and her present life, she would mentally inquire:
"Can this be really I, myself, and not another? I, the little houseless wanderer through the streets and alleys of New York? I, the little newsgirl in boy"s clothes? I, the wretched little vagrant that was brought up before the recorder and was about to be sent to the House of Refuge for juvenile delinquents? Can this be I, Capitola, the little outcast of the city, now changed into Miss Black, the young lady, perhaps the heiress of a fine old country seat; calling a fine old military officer uncle; having a handsome income of pocket money settled upon me; having carriages and horses and servants to attend me? No; it can"t be! It"s just impossible! No; I see how it is. I"m crazy! that"s what I am, crazy! For, now I think of it, the last thing I remember of my former life was being brought before the recorder for wearing boy"s clothes. Now, I"m sure that it was upon that occasion that I went suddenly mad with trouble, and all the rest is a lunatic"s fancy! This fine old country seat of which I vainly think myself the mistress, is just the pauper madhouse to which the magistrates have sent me. This fine old military officer whom I call uncle is the head doctor. The servants who come at my call are the keepers.
"There is no figure out of my past life in my present one except Herbert Greyson. But, pshaw! he is not "the nephew of his uncle;" he is only my old comrade, Herbert Greyson, the sailor lad, who comes here to the madhouse to see me, and, out of compa.s.sion, humors all my fancies.
"I wonder how long they"ll keep me here? Forever, I hope. Until I get cured, I"m sure. I hope they won"t cure me; I vow I won"t be cured. It"s a great deal too pleasant to be mad, and I"ll stay so. I"ll keep on calling myself Miss Black, and this madhouse my country seat, and the head doctor my uncle, and the keepers servants, until the end of time, so I will. Catch me coming to my senses, when it"s so delightful to be mad. I"m too sharp for that. I didn"t grow up in Rag Alley, New York, for nothing."
So, half in jest and half in earnest, Capitola soliloquized upon her change of fortune.
Her education was commenced, but progressed rather irregularly. Old Hurricane bought her books and maps, slates and copy-books, set her lessons in grammar, geography and history, and made her write copies, do sums and read and recite lessons to him. Mrs. Condiment taught her the mysteries of cutting and basting, back-st.i.tching and felling, hemming and seaming. A pupil as sharp as Capitola soon mastered her tasks, and found herself each day with many hours of leisure with which she did not know what to do.
These hours were at first occupied with exploring the old house, with all its attics, cuddies, c.o.c.k-lofts and cellars; then in wandering through the old ornamental grounds, that were, even in winter and in total neglect, beautiful with their wild growth of evergreens; thence she extended her researches into the wild and picturesque country around.
She was never weary of admiring the great forest that climbed the heights of the mountains behind their house; the great bleak precipices of gray rock seen through the leafless branches of the trees; the rugged falling ground that lay before the house and between it and the river; and the river itself, with its rushing stream and raging rapids.
Capitola had become a skilful as she had first been a fearless rider.
But her rides were confined to the domain between the mountain range and the river; she was forbidden to ford the one or climb the other. Perhaps if such a prohibition had never been made Capitola would never have thought of doing the one or the other; but we all know the diabolical fascination there is in forbidden pleasures for young human nature. And no sooner had Cap been commanded, if she valued her safety, not to cross the water or climb the precipice than, as a natural consequence, she began to wonder what was in the valley behind the mountain and what might be in the woods across the river. And she longed, above all things, to explore and find out for herself. She would eagerly have done so, notwithstanding the prohibition; but Wool, who always attended her rides, was sadly in the way. If she could only get rid of Wool, she resolved to go upon a limited exploring expedition.