Grit A-Plenty. Dillon Wallace

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      “But suppose—suppose he’ll not be there. Be there no one else?” Thomas insisted.

      “I—don’t know,” admitted Doctor Joe. “I don’t know. Once I knew another surgeon—a young man—who performed such operations, but he went wrong and lost his skill and had to stop operating. I’d not like to trust Jamie with him. But we’ll hope the great doctor is in New York.”

      They stood in silence for a little.

      “Poor little lad! Poor little lad!” sighed Thomas, finally.

      “’Tis hard,” sympathized Doctor Joe, who was fond of Jamie. “And there’s another thing, Thomas,” he continued. “You and I must catch more fur this year than we ever caught before, for there’s the mail boat and another steamer to pay the passage on, and they charge a good deal. Trowbridge & Gray pay good prices for fur, and pay cash. Let us hope one of us will catch a silver fox. We’ll need it. I’ll put in all I earn to help save Jamie’s sight.”

      “Aye,” said Thomas, “We’ll do our best, and—Doctor Joe—I’m wonderful thankful to you.”

      “Thomas, I owe it to you to do everything I can for Jamie, even if I didn’t want to do it so much for Jamie’s own sake,” and Doctor Joe’s voice was strangely husky. “You’ve helped cure me of a dreadful disease—I hope I’m cured—I pray God that I am—but I still need your help and friendship to make me strong.”

      “Me—cure you of something?” asked Thomas, mystified. “I was never givin’ you medicine, or curin’ you of any ailment!”

      “Yes—the best kind of medicine—your friendship—when I came here, and ever since. Some day I’ll tell you about it, but not now—not yet, Thomas Angus. Now we must think of Jamie, and do our best.”

      “Aye, and do our best,” said Thomas.

      Thomas Angus had always done his best with cheerful heroism, and how he hoped now to improve upon the best is hard to guess. Down on The Labrador every man must do his best all of the time if he would keep the flour barrel filled and run no debt with traders. In that stern land there can be no idling or wasting of time, and men work as though it were a joy, and the folk endure hardships without ever knowing they are hardships, and are happy, too, withal. Life there is grim and real.

      Every boy and every girl, too, learns early to do his or her part, and accept what comes without complaint.

      Young lad though he was, Jamie heard Doctor Joe’s verdict bravely, and accepted his affliction as one of the ups and downs of life. Until now he had been hoping each night when he went to sleep that when he opened his eyes in the morning he would find that the mist had lifted while he slept. Now this hope was gone. But there was still the hope that some day the great doctor to whom Doctor Joe had written, would cut the mist away, and hope is a wonderful thing for the building of courage.

      “Keep your grit, lad,” said Thomas. “Doctor Joe says you’ll find th’ mist gettin’ thicker and th’ world growin’ darker for a time, and I’m thinkin’ you’ll need grit a plenty. Grit’s a great thing t’ have—a stout heart like a man’s, now, and plenty o’ grit, is a wonderful help.”

      “I’ll keep my grit, whatever,” declared Jamie, “an’ I’ll keep my heart stout, like a man’s.”

      “That’s fine now! I’m proud o’ my fine, brave lad!” encouraged Thomas. “I’ll be bound Doctor Joe’ll find a way sooner or later, by hook or by crook, t’ lift th’ mist.”

      The fishing season was at an end, and Thomas and the boys had made a good catch. They had nearly enough salmon and trout salted in barrels to pay for their winter’s supply of flour and pork, in barter, at the post. This had never happened before, but this year there had been an uncommon run of salmon.

      “We’ll load un in th’ boat and take un to the post tomorrow,” said Thomas, as they sat at tea on the evening when the last barrel was headed. “’Tis a clever catch, and we has un when we needs un th’ most.”

      “And I hopes,” said David, dipping a spoonful of molasses into his tea, “’Twill be a fine year for fur, and us and Doctor Joe’ll sure get th’ fur t’ pay for Jamie goin’ for th’ cure.”

      “Pop’ll get th’ fur—Pop and Uncle Joe,” broke in Andy. “Pop’s a wonderful hunter.”

      “We’ll get un if ’tis t’ be got,” declared Thomas. “Oh, aye, we’ll get un.”

      “There comes Doctor Joe,” Andy announced, as Doctor Joe, walking up from the landing place, passed the window, singing in a rich tenor voice:

      “I wonder, now,” said Thomas, “if ’taint true—that song Doctor Joe is singin’.”

      Just then the door opened and in walked Doctor Joe himself.

      “Always just in time!” he exclaimed.

      “Set in! Set in!” said Thomas heartily, visibly cheered by Doctor Joe’s coming.

      “That I will,” accepted Doctor Joe. “I was lonely at Break Cove alone, and I pulled over in the skiff for a chat, and to spend the night—and to have a look at Jamie’s eyes.”

      It was always a treat to have Doctor Joe with them for a night. When he and Thomas lighted their pipes in the evening, and the big box stove was crackling cheerily, he thrilled them with stories of other and far-off lands. Thomas was no less interested than Margaret and the boys in his wonderful tales of the great outside world, and of the great city in which he had once lived—of the mighty buildings that towered high, high up into the skies—of the rushing railway trains—and their wonderful speed—of people so numerous that they crowded one another on the streets, and where you might meet thousands and thousands of people and never know one by name, and where half a hundred families might live in a single house.

      “I’d like wonderful well t’ have a look at un,” said Thomas, “but I wouldn’t want t’ have t’ stay long in such a place. There wouldn’t be room t’ stretch.”

      “No,” agreed Doctor Joe, “you wouldn’t care to stay there.”

      “And how’s th’ huntin’?” asked David. “Seems like there wouldn’t be game enough for ’em all t’ hunt, and I’m wonderin’, now, how they gets their meat.”

      Then Doctor Joe had to tell them about cattle and sheep, the great stock ranges and stock yards, and how the animals were butchered and the meat sold.

      “I wouldn’t want t’ eat th’ meat of animals I raised up like that,” declared Margaret. “’Tis wonderful hard and cruel t’ tie un up like that and kill un. They don’t have a chance t’ get away, like th’ deer has here.”

      “But there are plenty of people there,” said Doctor Joe, “who eat the meat every day without giving a thought to that, but who think it very cruel to hunt and kill deer and other wild animals.”

      “But СКАЧАТЬ