Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 December 1894 — The Doctor's Thanksgiving. [ARTICLE]

The Doctor's Thanksgiving.

BY FRANCIS CHURCHILL WILLIAMS.

“B-r-r-r!” exclaimed the Doctor as he came into the kitchen and threw off his greatcoat. “We’re in for a stormy night, sure. I’m glad to-morrow’s Thanksgiving, and I do hope it’ll be a holiday for me as well as for other folks. It’ll be a good day to stay indoors.” His wife put both arms about him, regardless of the flour on her hands. “I do hope you won’t be called out,” she said; ‘'you need a rest. Now sit down, and I’ll soon have supper ready.” The Doctor drew up a chair near the fire,, and went on while the table was being set: ‘‘Yes, the wind's from the east, and I think we’ll have rain before morning. It'll be a bad night offshore. ” Then he relapsed into silence, enjoying the warmth of the room and thinking with pleasure of the next day. The wind roarod more loudly outside than ever, and shook the house as if in impotent rage at its inability to tear it from its foundations. When he went to the door, just before retiring, there was a fine,, driving sleet from the east. The Doctor gave only a glance out-of-doors; then he shut and bolted the door, and went upstairs to bed. It seemed to him that he had but just dozed off when he was awakened by a furious pounding below. Some one was doing his best to let him know that admission was wanted; and with not a little mental grumbling the Doctor got out of bed and into his dressing gown and slippers, and lifted the sash of a window overlooking the door. ‘‘Well, what’s wanted?” he asked, though he felt sure he knew beforehand. ‘‘Old Paxton’s sick,” said a hoarse voice from below; ‘and I’ve come for you. Dr. Brightly’s out of town.” The Doctor uttered a half-sup-pressd exclamation of disgust and said he’d be down right away. Then he drew in his head and shut the window. ‘‘lt’s no use,” he explained; ‘‘there’s no holiday for me. It’s nearly five o’clock, and it’ll be seven before I can reach the village. Two or three hours more must be spent there at least, if the old gentleman has one of his regular attacks, as I fear. That means afternoon before I return. It won’t be much of a Thanksgiving for me; will it? That is,” he went on hastily, ‘‘l mean not a holiday. ” For his wife had come to his side and was looking at him in gentle reproach. .Fifteen minutes later the Doctor, ensconced in a buggy beside the man who had come for him, was trying to keep his face from the biting attacks of the wind-driven sleet against which they were slowly forcing their way. It was a wild night; and the storm which the Doctor had prophesied had come down on the coast from off the sea, bringing with it halffrozen rain, and now and then fierce flurries of snow. It was a tiresome struggle of two hours before they drew rein in front of the house where was the patient, and the doctor was glad to get indoors. He found the case even a worse one than he had expected. Old Paxton, as he was generally called, was well advanced in years and was subject to periodical attacks of a chronic disorder which obstinately resisted treatment and usually entailed the physician’s constant presence at the bedside for several hours before it yielded its hold, even for the time. So it was now. The doctor set to work at once with a full knowledge of what to do and of what was before him; but it was past ten o’clock before he felt he could safely leave the old man. Then, with a sigh of relief, he went down stairs and, after securing a bite to eat, prepared to start for home, for which purpose he had directed the man who had driven him over to return with his team.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, and the doctor went and opened it. His driver was there, but he was all excitement, and he did not wait to be asked what was the matter. “TJhere’s a ship off shore! ” he exclaime3. “She came in an hour ago! She’s on the outside bar. They’re all down on the beach now, watching her. They’ve sent for the coast guard; but the station’s miles away and it’ll be several hours before they can get here with their gun; and they say she can’t last that long. There’s men aboard her, too; a while ’go they were seen tryin’ to get a boat off from her; but the waves smashed it to splinters alongside the ship! ” For a minute the Doctor hesitated as he thought of his comfortable, home. Theft it came to him that he might be of some assistance here. There was no physician but himself in the place. Suppose some of those poor fellows managed to get ashore alive? They would need just such aid as he eould best give Plainly his duty was down on the beach. He would miss his Thanksgiving, probably, altogether. But what of that beside the good he might be able to do here? "Show me the way! ’’ he said, quickly, to the man. “I’ll go down with you and see if there is anything It wm a fight against the wind all

the way down to the beach, and at every step the gale seemed to in-1 crease in power. The sand, which the wind carried, cut the face cruelly. The Doctor, with his muffler wound partly about his head, followed his guide, who made off away from the direction of the town. Presently, through Qie misty spume which obscured all objects at any distance, a crowd of men came into view. Their figures were magnified by the atmosphere hugely. They were all looking to the seaward, except when one of them would now and then give an eager glance down the beach where the men from the life-saving station must first appear The Doctor and his companion stopped beside a smaller knot of men in rough coats and sou’westers who were gathered about an old whaleboat. The men gave a stare at the newcomers as they came up, then fastened their eyes again upon the sea. “Where does she lie?” asked the Doctor, after a minute’s fruitless scanning of the mass of tumbling waters before him. “Straight ahead,off th’ second bar!” returned the nearest man, pointing a seamed hand in front of him. ‘‘She’s | hard and fast there. The seas 're : pounding her hard. By an’ by she’ll break; then may God ha’ mercy on those aboard her!” It was an awesome sight. In angry majesty the huge billows rolled in from under the gray, a hissing wreath of white upon their brows. Then, with a thunderous crash they fell and rushed in seething foam up the beach, up, until they almost reached the anxious crowd of watchers. Suddenly one of the billows, more powerful than its fellows, seemed to have lifted the mist upon its shoulders, and, dropping, to have left the curtain hanging in empty air. Beneath its ragged edge and over the tops of the waves the Doctor saw a sight which sent a chill to his heart. It was only a glimpse of a mass of black, framed in spume and driving water, a splintered spar here and there reaching up, and flying, broken ropes, which whipped the air. Not a sign of life showed about the hulk; but those who saw the sight knew that men had been there but a short time before, and a groan came from the crowd. The gray mist fell once more and blotted out everything from view.

A moment the Doctor was silent, his mind working quickly. Then, all at once, he sprung up and on the bow of the boat beside him. "Men,” he cried, and his voice rang out strong and clear, ‘‘there’s work to be done and we must do it 1 There are poor souls out there and the guard can’t get here in time! But you’re not going to see them die because of that? Who'll go out with me, then, and try to bring them in? Who offers?” The crowd had turned their faces to him as one. But there was no answer. They all knew the danger better than he. Stout-hearted as they were, they stood appaled at the idea of facing those tremendous seas. The Doctor glanced from face to face. Then suddenly he spoke again: “What, will you see them die? Will you let me, a landsman, put you to shame? Who conies first? There are but six places to fill!” There was an instant more of silence ; but then the crowd to a man pressed around the speaker, each crying that he would go. The Doctor jumped from his perch as abroad-shouldered, weatherbeaten fisherman pushed his way to the front and clapped him on the shoulder and spoke out. “We’re with you, Doctor!” he said, in his rough bass. “But only the best oars must go. I’ll pick ’em and take out the boat myself.” In five minutes the Doctor saw five sturdy fellows, their peajackets and oilskins cast off, ranged off along the sides of the whaleboat. He himself at the bow —for he had insisted upon going divested of coat and hat, stood ready for the word. As if by magic the boat had been stripped of all but the long ashen oars which lay on the thwarts, ready at hand.

Together the six shoved the boat down to the water’s edge. Then three of the men with the Doctor leaped in, and dropping their oars between the tholepins, bent, ready for the first struggle. The leader in the stern, his steering oar over the gunwale, watched the waves before him. Suddenly he roared out, “Let her go,” and the two men at the boat’s edge ran her out on a receding wave, wading to their waists before they tumbled aboard and seized the stroke oars. The long blades of the six oars were bnried and the boat leaped forward as the oarsmen threw their weight upon them. Then a huge wave came booming in, the boat rose high to meet it, and the Doctor in the bow saw a mass of water rush by him. The next instant the boat gave a sudden fling and slid down into the dark abyss between the waves. Again it rose, and poised for an instant on the billow’s summit, then rushed down the decline once more. The Doctor, with all his old time college experience in handling an oar, found his strength and skill sorely tried to retain his grasp upon the heavy' ash sweep which he held. There was no fear in his heart. He thought only of those to reach whom they were now struggling. Again and again were they driven partly back. But steadily the boat’s crew fought their way on, sheets of spray flying from the bows and fairly blinding the men for the moment. Then, all at once, there camo a sharp command from the steersman: “ Hold hard!” and the Doctor felt something strike him on the shoulder heavily. Instinctively he reached out a hand and caught it. As he realized that it was a rope and that it must come from the vessel he dropped his hold on the oar and grasped the line firmly. In another minute, with the help of the to an nearest him, lie had given it a turnlaround a thwart and the boat swung in the less heavy seas in the lee 'of the wrecked schooner. Comparatively calm tho’ it was here, the long whaleboat rose and fell on mountains of water, each of which seemed certain to swamp her as it towered up ahead of her bows. Almost before he had time to look up at the vessel’s deck, a man appeared at the gap !n the

crushed bulwarks above the Doctor’s head, and, as the boat heaved upward on a wave, this man slid down the rope into the boat's bows. In a minute came a second, then a third man, each, as he dropped into the boat, crawling aft. Finally, after an instant’s wait, came a fourth man, this last one failing helplessly across the forward thwart and lying there, doubled up with his head against the gunwale, Quickly the Doctor raised him and passed him back to the stern. There was a pause, then one of the rescued men called that that was all, and the steerman’s voice as quickly roared out, “Let go 1” With fumbling haste the Doctor untwisted the rope and dropped on his seat and seized his oar as the boat swung around, its bow pointing toward where the shore lay—toward where the billows were racing in great, tumbled masses of white-capped green. Of the struggle back to the beach the doctor realized little besides his physical exertions. Now that they were returning with their mission, as it seemed, fulfilled, his heart was all with the dear one in his own little home miles away. He only knew that it was safely over, that desperate journey, when a score of hands seized the whaleboat and rushed her far up the sands, with her load yet within her. He heard the cheers and cries, but somehow they seemed to come from far off. Then, as he saw a helpless figure carried from the boat, he recognized that there was great work to be done, work which he could do more skillfully than those around him. And he climbed from his seat, and, buttoning around him the coat which was thrown over his shoulders, he hurried as fast as his stiff legs would allow, up to the little frame, fishing shanty where the rescued sailors had been taken.

Two of the men were sufficiently strong to need no further aid than that furnished by the hot drink and warm blankets already given them. The third was hardly worse off, though he was very weak. It was the fourth man, who lay on a pile of old blanket-covered sails in the corner, to whom the Doctor turned his attention. A couple of smoky lanterns had been lighted to dispel the darkness which the closed door made in the small, windowless room. In the dim light these gave, the doctor bent over and looked at the figure before him. It was that of a young man of robust frame. The face was strong, with clean-cut features; a mass of curly hair clustered damply about the temples and forehead. Something in the face made the doctor give a sudden start; and the fisherman, who stood by ready to lend assistance if it were needed, noted a quick pallor come over his face. He did not, however, see tho gleam of wild, but half-believing joy in the doctor’s eyes; and when the latter bent closer over the figure before him, and quickly opened the rough flannel shirt the unconscious sailor wore, his companion thought it nothing strange, nor noted the grasp of the other’s hand upon the near-by wall. The only words the fisherman said, as the doctor brought his head up from the sailor’s breast, framed the question, “Is he a-livin?” And learning that he was, and that it would be best, perhaps, if the doctor were left alone with the rescued men, the simple fisherman left the shanty content, and rejoiced to be able to tell his mates that all was going well.

When he had gone the Doctor deftly wrapped the unconscious sailor in a couple of -warm blankets, after stripping him of his wet clothing. Then, having forced a few drops of liquor between the white lips, he threw himself down on the floor beside the improvised bed and fell to chafing vigorously the cold hands. Rolled in their warm blankets the other three men in the room slept, betraying their presence only by their heavy breathing. They did not see the pitiful look of longing anxiety with which the Doctor hung over the young man. They would not have understood had they seen it. But before the Doctor’s mind there passed a panorama of the past, called into life by the sight of that handsome young face before him. It seemed to him but the other day that a boy of fifteen, his son, the one child that had ever called him father, romped about the place and pleaded to go to sea. The day when the boy had disappeared, leaving only a blotted note of explanation behind him, was clear in every detail even now, though it was fully twelve years ago. As for those twelve years they represented a heart-sore period, during which he and his brave little wife strove to console each other for their terrible loss, and waited, with lesseninghope, despite their courage, for the return of the boy in whom they had bound up so much of their love. And now, after all those years, to be so rewarded for that waiting it seemed to the Doctor scarcely possible. Yet, had he not the evidence of it before his own eyes? Had he not there beside him the same boy, now grown to a man, but still the loved son? He could not doubt what every instinct, every pulse of his heart told him was so. Of the four men he had helped to rescue that day one was his son. In silent thanksgiving he bent over the face of the slowly reviving young sailor and pressed his lips to the poor head now warming with life. Presently the man began to stir and then, as if he had only just awakened from an uneasy sleep, opened his eyes. At first there was but blankness in those eyes; then all at once they filled with the light of puzzled intelligence and turned upon the Doctor. There was surprise but no recognition in them, and the Doctor, thinking of his own quick discovery, was pained. Then, however, he remembered that in himself there must have been a wonderful change, ■and he gently stroked the hand lie held and asked the other how he felt. For a while he played the professional man’s part and refrained from putting the question he so longed to ask. At last, however, he could restrain himself no longer, and he stooped suddenly over the young man With both arms about him. “Bob,” he Whispered, eagerly—- “ Bob, 'don’t you -know 'me? It’*

Daddy, Bob—Daddy! Tell me you remember! Answer me!” At first the puzzled look came back into the young man’s face; but it lasted only an instant. A light of recognition, as of something long past, suddenly called into being again, flashed in his eyes; an almost pitifpt expression of joy leaped into his every feature. Then, as he saw the Doctor’s face still close before his, he seemed to realize that it was all true, and his arms were weakly raised and put about the other’s neck, and a choking sob came from his lips. To the Doctor it was as if the twelve years gone by had! never been. Once more his boy’/ arms were about him, and he liyd him close to his breast. J The light was shining wajhly from the kitchen window of Doctor’s house, and the wife was anxiously waiting for his arrival at six o’clock that same Thanksgiving evening. When, in the early afternoon, she received a message from him that he could not be home until evening, she straightway determined to keep the dinner until that time; and now all was ready for his coming. Presently the sound of wheels crushing the gravel and the splashing of a horse in the puddles came to her ears; and she ran and opened the door, shading the lamp she held with her hand. The Doctor’s burly form descended from a comfortable, double-seated wagon, and he quickly ran up the steps and very tenderly took her in his arms, disregarding his wet greatcoat. “Dearest,” he said, in a voice in which he did not try to suppress the joy, “I have something to tell you which will be a great and happy surprise. Do you think you can bear to hear it. all at once?” “Why, of course,” she replied in half alarm, and turned her face up to his. “Then,” said the Doctor, slowly, “there was a vessel wrecked to-day, offshore. There were four men saved. One of them was a young man. You remember that we always thought that—that—Bob, our boy, had gone” —He stopped. Her hands closed convulsively upon his arm,and he held her to him, fearing she would fall. But she only asked swiftly: “Where is he? It is he!” and, as she watched his eyes turn towards the wagon, still standing outside, she suddenly tore herself from him and ran out of the door. As she reached the wagon a man got down quickly. A moment she stood looking in his face, the light from the open house door bringing out its every line. Then, with a glad cry, she leaned forward and the young man’s arms closed about her. And, as these two came up the steps into the house together the Doctor stole an arm around the neck of each. “It was God’s way,” he said, reverently; “and (this is our Thanksgiving.”—[lndependent.