A Country Doctor

A Country Doctor and Selected
Stories and
by Sarah Orne
Jewett

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Stories and
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Title: A Country Doctor and Selected Stories and Sketches
Author: Sarah Orne Jewett
Release Date: March 8, 2005 [EBook #15294]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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COUNTRY DOCTOR AND ***

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A COUNTRY DOCTOR
by Sarah Orne Jewett
Published 1884

* * * * *

CONTENTS
I. THE LAST MILE
II. THE FARM-HOUSE KITCHEN
III. AT JAKE AND MARTIN'S
IV. LIFE AND DEATH
V. A SUNDAY VISIT
VI. IN SUMMER WEATHER
VII. FOR THE YEARS TO COME
VIII. A GREAT CHANGE
IX. AT DR. LESLIE'S
X. ACROSS THE STREET
XI. NEW OUTLOOKS
XII. AGAINST THE WIND
XIII. A STRAIGHT COURSE

XIV. MISS PRINCE OF DUNPORT
XV. HOSTESS AND GUEST
XVI. A JUNE SUNDAY
XVII. BY THE RIVER
XVIII. A SERIOUS TEA-DRINKING
XIX. FRIEND AND LOVER
XX. ASHORE AND AFLOAT
XXI. AT HOME AGAIN
* * * * *

I
THE LAST MILE
It had been one of the warm and almost sultry days which sometimes
come in November; a maligned month, which is really an epitome of
the other eleven, or a sort of index to the whole year's changes of storm
and sunshine. The afternoon was like spring, the air was soft and damp,
and the buds of the willows had been beguiled into swelling a little, so
that there was a bloom over them, and the grass looked as if it had been
growing green of late instead of fading steadily. It seemed like a
reprieve from the doom of winter, or from even November itself.
The dense and early darkness which usually follows such unseasonable
mildness had already begun to cut short the pleasures of this spring-like
day, when a young woman, who carried a child in her arms, turned
from a main road of Oldfields into a foot-path which led southward
across the fields and pastures. She seemed sure of her way, and kept the
path without difficulty, though a stranger might easily have lost it here

and there, where it led among the patches of sweet-fern or bayberry
bushes, or through shadowy tracts of small white-pines. She stopped
sometimes to rest, and walked more and more wearily, with increasing
effort; but she kept on her way desperately, as if it would not do to
arrive much later at the place which she was seeking. The child seemed
to be asleep; it looked too heavy for so slight a woman to carry.
The path led after a while to a more open country, there was a low hill
to be climbed, and at its top the slender figure stopped and seemed to
be panting for breath. A follower might have noticed that it bent its
head over the child's for a moment as it stood, dark against the
darkening sky. There had formerly been a defense against the Indians
on this hill, which in the daytime commanded a fine view of the
surrounding country, and the low earthworks or foundations of the
garrison were still plainly to be seen. The woman seated herself on the
sunken wall in spite of the dampness and increasing chill, still holding
the child, and rocking to and fro like one in despair. The child waked
and began to whine and cry a little in that strange, lonely place, and
after a few minutes, perhaps to quiet it, they went on their way. Near
the foot of the hill was a brook, swollen by the autumn rains; it made a
loud noise in the quiet pasture, as if it were crying out against a wrong
or some sad memory. The woman went toward it at first, following a
slight ridge which was all that remained of a covered path which had
led down from the garrison to the spring below at the brookside. If she
had meant to quench her thirst here, she changed her mind, and
suddenly turned to the right, following the brook a short distance, and
then going straight toward the river itself and the high uplands, which
by daylight were smooth pastures with here and there a tangled
apple-tree or the grassy cellar of a long vanished farm-house.
It was night now; it was too late in the year for the chirp of any insects;
the moving air, which could hardly be called