Rensselaer Republican, Volume 20, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 May 1888 — DR. DUDLEY’S FISHING. [ARTICLE]

DR. DUDLEY’S FISHING.

It wrs one of those hazy de ya in August when the whole atmosphere has a smoky appearance. The sun's rays were so toned and mellowed that no rhadows wera cast, and a fa’nt breeze was at rring that made the leaves flutter lasily,— Just the day for btsi fi.-hing. So thought Dr. Dudley, as he made his way down a ttseu bank to the edge of the “outlet” near the village of the Linden Springs where he was spending bis summer vacation. Before him the water spread out placidly, its surface stirred only by the gentlest kind of a “firherman’s ripple.” Dr. Dudley was a man 30 years of age, large of stature, and with a somewhat stern countenanc*. He was an angler of consummate skill, as his well filled basket often showed. But he pursued the sport with a gravity that was never disturbed by signs of exultation. On this particular" afternoon he had just finished a successful battle wi h a vigorous three-pounder, and was prepanngt ■> cfs* h's flies again, when sound of a woman’s voice coming from a dstance fill upon his ears. Looking acioss a fie'd, he raw at the door of a farm house a drees flutte'ing and a hardkerchief waving in the air. He gazed steadily at the figure, which, it wes evid-n‘, was beckoning to him. He starfedtoward the house.snd the woman gave a aeries ci neds and made earnest gestures. “It is evidently a case of distress,” he though', “or she would not hail a s ranger tl at way.” A walk of five minutsa'tcok him to the farm boure. The woman, who had stepped witbin, emerged again as he approached the door. She war about 50 years of age, and gave signs of strong agit i’ ion. “Oh. sir, if it was not a case of liie or death I would not have troubled jou. There ; s a sick child up sfa’rs, and I don't know but it is dying. I am all alone with her, and thought perhaps you woold be so k'nd as to go for the mother.” < ‘ Where is he mother?” “At the fchcol hoes 3 a mile down the road, whers she teaches. Yoa can go into the barn and hitch a horse to the buggy and drive. And oh, tir, please be quick abcut it, for her mother is the only one who can quiet her.” “What is the mat ter with the child?’’ __asked Dr.. Dudley- _ “I hardly know. She has been sick for a week, and to-day is wild with a high fever. I don’t think there is any time to loee.” The woman’s face was appealing almost to desperation. Dr. Dudley contemplated her with compassion breaking through the sternness of h's bearded face, and said: * '“Let me see the child. lam a physician.” ‘ Ob, how fortunate. Perhaps you will know exactly what to do.” She led the way to an upper chamber and Dr, Hadley followed her into the sick-room. On the bed lay a 3-year-old girl with flushed cheeks, and golden curls straying over the pillow. The eyes were closed, but the little term was restaSdlbw"murmurs of pain came from the parted lips. Dr. Dudley took hold of the fevered hand and directed at the child that searching, comprehensive look which the real physician is wont to bestow on his pat ents. “Give me two tumblers of fresh water,” he said at length, and when these were produced he dropped a small quantity of medicine into each. With gentle and soothing touch he changed the child’s position and placed a teaspoon of the cool liquid between her lips. He t hen stoed motionless and watched his patienb

•‘What do you think?” atked the woman timidly. But Dr. Dudley’e face suddenly assumeda startled look. He gazed at the patient searchingly. “What a resemblance;” he murmured under bis breath. Thus he stood for several minutes as if unconscious of the presence of the woman,who at length repeated his inquiry. “I beg your pardon,” he exclkipied. “I think I came just in time. The child requires caie’ul attention. What :s her mother's name?” “Mrr. Murdock. She is a widow, and my husband’s niece. After her busband’s death she came with us to board, and finally got a pcsition in the district school.” “Ab!" replied Dr. Dudley, who had listened intently. “Well, there is no need of frightening Mis. Murdock. I will goto the barn and get the horse and buggy ready, and you will drive to the school-house. Tell Mrs. Murdock that a physician is watching her child. Ido not like to leave just yet,for every symptom must be watched.” » v The arrangement was carried out and soon Dr. Dudley was alone with his patient. In the solitude of the sick-room he gave himself up to profound thought something seeming to have awakened within him strain of recollection. “It must be she,” he slid to himself. ‘The child’s face and the name make it almost cei tain. How will we meet? Will she know me with my browned skin and full beard?’ Meanwhile he administered medicine at regular intervals, and toon had the satisfaction of seeing ihe child sink into a comparatively quiet slumber. In half an hour the sound -bl approaching wheels was heard. Dr. Dudley sprang to the window and looked out eagerly. “It is she!” he exclaimed, and then he awaited the young mother's arrival. Mrs. Murdock entered the room hurriedly. She was wonderfully beautiful, though anxious and agitated. A white drees, above it a fair face with dark, magnificent eyes—these were what any casual observer would have seen; but Mr. Dudley saw more. Scenes of the past came before him—of a time when the whole love of his earnest heart had been poured upon Leona Forest; when he had thought she loved him; a time when hope had held out a future of sweet companionship and then when all things were bathed in the light of a supreme joy. Then came a darker picture —one of a cloud darkening his bopee; of disappointment, deep sorrow and a period of dull dispair. Afterward followed outward resignation, but an inward regret that would not pssi away Never for a moment had he ceased to love Leona Forest—not even when she became the wife of Allen Murdcck, For four years he had not looked upon her, and now they were again face to face, she widowed and he in attendance upon her sick child. What strange freak of fate was it that led him to choose this spot for his summer vacation and had brought him in the presence of his old love?

Leona Murdock went straight to the bedside of her little daughter and bent tenderly over her. With a mother’s quick perception she detected a change for the better. Then she turned to Dr. Dudley. He had purposely dosed the blinds and stepped to a shade d portion of the room. “Will my little one recover?” she asked in tremulous tones. “I think she will. It is a questiph ofsubduing the fever and maintaining the vitality.” Dr. Dudley spoke in hie lowest and most formal professional tone. “Philip!” The woman’s fine organi-' zation could not be deceived. “Philip Dudley!” “At your service Mrs. Murdock.” Neither advanced toward the other. Mr. Dudley restrained an impulse to spring forward and seize her hands, while Leona Murdock was oppressed with a sudden flood of memory. “How came you here?” she asked. “That can be explained later. Our present concern is your little girl. Do you not agree with us?” “Yes,” she responded quickly. “Can you rave her.” “I can try. Her case is critical,(but not hopeless.” It was the physician, not the old lover, vho epoke, and thenceforward nothing could have Deen mere cool and business like than bis behavior. The mother, too, was watchful of the sick one, and tender and constant in her ministrations.

Dr. Dudley soon left his directiors for the day and night and took his departure. For three days thereafter he made visits to the farm-house at intervalsof a few hours, and at lenghth was enabled to assert that the critical point in the fever had passed. Then came convalescence, During all this time not a look nor a word had escaped him outBut one evening the child was sleeping soundly upstairs, and, Dr. Dudley and Mn». Murdcck were seated in the vine-covered porch of the farmer’s house. It was between daylight and dark. “If my little girl had died I should have wished to die, too. I can never repay you sufficiently, Dr. Dudley, for saving her.” “Is it so bad as that? I have been hoping fora very liberal compensation.” “You deserve it. But I was not thinking of dollars and cents.” “Nori.”

Leona Murdock was silent “Yes,” said Dr, Dudley, after a pause “yotir child’s life will now brighten your own, for she is a lovable little creature. It will always be something of a compensation to know that I was instrumental 'in preventing a great grief froth overtaking you. As for my further pay—pay—well ” Dr. Dudley hesitated. “Do yon never think of the old days, Leona?” She started and trembled. “Ausiper me,” he persisted, seizing her hafid. “I have found you, after all these yea’s, free again, and my love comes back a bund) ed-fold. I cannot return to the world without yen.” He was so intensely earnest that his toice yrgvered, and the strong c’aip of his hand almost gave her pain.. Her heart beat with agitation, and then came the s ?n?e of contorted rest. “Philip,” she whispered, “I am loyal, to the memory of my husband who died, but”—her voice tank still lower—“I think my time of real happiness has just begun.” z And he took this for the answer on which all the brightness of the future seemed to depend. Thus was a young life raved and two hearts filled with new life. In after days the zest with which Dr. Dudley told of his fishing trip was never quite understood by bis little stepdaughter, though the enthusiasm of the narrator always enchained the close and wondering attention of the listener.