to go for our own doctor of course--and the minute he saw Francois he

said, 'Send for your own physician, madam;' said it as cross as a bear,

too, and turned right on his heel, and cleared out without doing a

thing!"

Everybody--"The mean, contemptible brute!"

Mrs. O--"Well you may say it. I was nearly out of my wits by this time.

But we hurried off the servants after our own doctor and telegraphed

mother--she was in New York and rushed down on the first train; and when

the doctor got there, lo and behold you he found Francois had broke one

of his legs, too!"

Everybody--"Goodness!"

Mrs. O.--"Yes. So he set his leg and bandaged it up, and fixed his ribs

and gave him a dose of something to quiet down his excitement and put him

to sleep--poor thing he was trembling and frightened to death and it was

pitiful to see him. We had him in my bed--Mr. Oreille slept in the guest

room and I laid down beside Francois--but not to sleep bless you no.

Bridget and I set up all night, and the doctor staid till two in the

morning, bless his old heart.--When mother got there she was so used up

with anxiety, that she had to go to bed and have the doctor; but when she

found that Francois was not in immediate danger she rallied, and by night

she was able to take a watch herself. Well for three days and nights we

three never left that bedside only to take an hour's nap at a time.

355

The Gilded Age