So you admit that, since the thing has got to be filled, it might as well be a dentist who does the job.

This much decided, all that is necessary is to call him up and make an appointment.

Let us say that this resolve is made on Tuesday.  That afternoon you start to look up the dentist’s number in the telephone-book.  A great wave of relief sweeps over you when you discover that it isn’t there.  How can you be expected to make an appointment with a man who hasn’t got a telephone?  And how can you have a tooth filled without making an appointment?  The whole thing is impossible, and that’s all there is to it.  God knows you did your best.

On Wednesday there is a slightly more insistent twinge, owing to bad management of a sip of ice water.  You decide that you simply must get in touch with that dentist when you get back from lunch.  But you know how those things are.  First one thing and then another came up, and a man came in from Providence who had to be shown around the office, and by the time you had a minute to yourself it was five o’clock.  And, anyway, the tooth didn’t bother you again.  You wouldn’t be surprised if, by being careful, you could get along with it as it is until the end of the week when you will have more time.  A man has to think of his business, after all, and what is a little personal discomfort in the shape of an unfilled tooth to the satisfaction of work well done in the office?

By Saturday morning you are fairly reconciled to going ahead, but it is only a half day and probably he has no appointments left, anyway.  Monday is really the time.  You can begin the week afresh.  After all, Monday is really the logical day to start in going to the dentist.

Bright and early Monday morning you make another try at the telephone-book, and find, to your horror, that some time between now and last Tuesday the dentist’s name and number have been inserted into the directory.  There it is.  There is no getting around it:  “Burgess, Jas. Kendal, DDS....  Courtland—­2654”.  There is really nothing left to do but to call him up.  Fortunately the line is busy, which gives you a perfectly good excuse for putting it over until Tuesday.  But on Tuesday luck is against you and you get a clear connection with the doctor himself.  An appointment is arranged for Thursday afternoon at 3:30.

Thursday afternoon, and here it is only Tuesday morning!  Almost anything may happen between now and then.  We might declare war on Mexico, and off you’d have to go, dentist appointment or no dentist appointment.  Surely a man couldn’t let a date to have a tooth filled stand in the way of his doing his duty to his country.  Or the social revolution might start on Wednesday, and by Thursday the whole town might be in ashes.  You can picture yourself standing, Thursday afternoon at 3.30 on the ruins of the City Hall, fighting off marauding bands of reds, and saying to yourself, with a sigh of relief:  “Only to think!  At this time I was to have been climbing into the dentist’s chair!” You never can tell when your luck will turn in a thing like that.