It was characteristic of Barney that within a few days he had all three departments in full operation. With great tact he succeeded in making Mrs. Fallows thoroughly scour the woodwork and whitewash the walls in Ben's little room, urging the doctor's orders and emphasizing the danger of microbes, the dread of which was just beginning to obtain in popular imagination.
"Microbes? What's them?" inquired Mrs. Fallows, suspiciously.
"Very small insects."
"Insects? Is it bugs you mean?" Mrs. Fallows at once became fiercely hostile. "I want to tell yeh, young sir, ther' hain't no bugs in this 'ouse. If ther's one thing I'm pertickler 'bout, it's bugs. John sez to me, sez 'e, 'What's the hodds of a bug or two, Hianthy?' But I sez to 'im, sez I, 'No bugs fer me, John. I hain't been brought up with bugs, an' bugs I cawn't an' won't 'ave.'"
It was only Barney's earnest assurance that the presence of microbes was no impeachment of the most scrupulous housekeeping and, indeed, that these mysterious creatures were to be found in the very highest circles, that Mrs. Fallows was finally appeased.
With equal skill he inaugurated his "good food" department, soothing Mrs. Fallows' susceptibilities with the diplomatic information that in surgical cases such as Ben's certain articles of diet specially prepared were necessary to the best results.
Not the least successful part of the treatment prescribed was that furnished by the "good cheer" department. This was left entirely in Dick's charge, and he threw himself into its direction with the enthusiasm of a devotee. Iola with her guitar was undoubtedly his mainstay. But Dick was never quite satisfied unless he could persuade Margaret, too, to assist in his department. But Margaret had other duties, and, besides, she had associated herself more particularly with Mrs. Boyle in the work of supplementing Mrs.
Fallows' somewhat unappetising though entirely substantial meals with delicacies more suited to the sickroom. Dick, however, insisted that with all that Iola and himself in the "good cheer" department and Barney in what he called the "scavenging" department could achieve, there was still need of Margaret's presence and Margaret's touch. Hence, before the busy harvest time came upon them, he made a practice of calling at the manse, and, relieving her of the duty of getting to sleep little five-year-old Tom, with whom he was first favourite, he would carry her off to the Fallows household, whither Barney and Iola had preceded them.
Altogether the "young doctor," as Ben called him, had reason to be proud of the success he was achieving with his first patient. The amputation healed over and the bone knit at the first intention, and in a few weeks Ben was far on the way to convalescence. He was never weary in his praises of the "young doctor." It was the "young doctor" who, by changing the bandages, had eased him of the intolerable pain which followed the first dressing. It was the "young doctor" who had changed the splints, shaping them cunningly to fit the limb, bringing ease where there had been chafing pain.
"Let 'em 'ave the old doctor if they want," was Ben's final conclusion, "but fer me, the young doctor, sez I."
