“O doctor! we’ve been so frightened!” said Mrs. Marvel, as Dr. Elton entered.  “We thought Charley had the croup, he breathed so loud.  But he don’t seem to get any worse.  What do you think of him, doctor?”

Dr. Elton felt his pulse, listened to his respiration, examined the appearance of his skin, and then said, emphatically—­

“I think you’d better all be in bed!”

“It’s better to be scared than hurt, doctor,” responded Mr. Marvel.

“Humph!” ejaculated Dr. Elton.

“Don’t you think you’d better give him something, doctor?” said Mrs. Marvel.

“What for, ma’am?”

“To keep him from having the croup.  Don’t you think he’s threatened with it?”

“Not half as much as I am,” replied the doctor, who made a quick retreat, fearing that he would give way too much to his irritated feelings, and offend a family who were able to pay.

Next morning, on the debtor side of his ledger, under the name of Mr. Marvel, Dr. Elton made this entry; To one night-visit to son, $5.  “And it’s well for me that he’s able to pay,” added the doctor, mentally, as he replaced the book in the drawer from which he had taken it.  Scarcely had this necessary part of the business been performed, when the same messenger who had summoned him the night before, came post-haste into the office, with the announcement that Mrs. Marvel wanted him to come there immediately, as Charley had got a high fever.

Obedient to the summons, Dr. Elton soon made his appearance, and found both Mr. and Mrs. Marvel greatly concerned about their little boy.

“I’m so ’fraid of the scarlet fever, doctor!” said Mrs. Marvel.  “Do you think it’s any thing like that?” she continued with much anxiety, turning upon Charley a look of deep maternal affection.

Dr. Elton felt of Charley’s pulse, and looked at his tongue, and then wrote a prescription in silence.

“What do you think of him, doctor?” asked the father, much concerned.

“He’s not dangerous, sir.  Give him this, and if he should grow worse, send for me.”

The doctor bowed and departed, and the fond parents sent off for the medicine.  It was in the form of a very small dose of rhubarb, and poor Charley had to have his nose held tight, and the nauseous stuff poured down his throat.  In the afternoon, when the doctor called, on being sent for, there were some slight febrile symptoms, consequent upon excitement and loss of rest.  The medicine, contrary to his expectation, heightened, instead of allaying these; and long before nightfall he was summoned again to attend his little patient.  Much to his surprise, he found him with a hot skin, flushed face, and quickened pulse.  Mrs. Marvel was in a state of terrible alarm.

“I knew there was more the matter with him than you thought for, doctor!” said the mother, while Dr. Elton examined his patient.  “You thought it was nothing, but I knew better.  If you’d only prescribed last night, as I wanted you to, all this might have been saved.”