It is not exactly the day one might select for a ride, for the storm is a regular north-easter, and your hands and feet are benumbed with the piercing cold wind, while you are drenched with the driving rain.

But the doctor is used to all this, and, unmindful of wind and rain, he urges his faithful horse to his utmost speed, eager to reach the spot where the most pressing duty calls.  He has at least the satisfaction of being welcome.  Anxious eyes are watching for his well-known vehicle from the window; the door is opened ere he puts his hand upon the lock, and the heartfelt exclamation,

“Oh, doctor, I am so thankful you have come!” greets him as he enters.

Hastily the anxious father leads the way to the room where his half-distracted wife is bending in agony over their first-born, a lovely infant of some ten months, who is now in strong convulsions.  The mother clasps her hands, and raises her eyes in gratitude to heaven, as the doctor enters,-he is her only earthly hope.  Prompt and efficient remedies are resorted to, and in an hour the restored little one is sleeping tranquilly in his mother’s arms.

The doctor departs amid a shower of blessings, and again urging his horse to speed, reaches his second place of destination.  It is a stately mansion.  A spruce waiter hastens to answer his ring, but the lady herself meets him as he enters the hall.

“We have been expecting you anxiously, doctor.  Mr. Palmer is quite ill, this morning.  Walk up, if you please.”

The doctor obeys, and is eagerly welcomed by his patient.

“Do exert your utmost skill to save me from a fever, doctor.  The symptoms are much the same which I experienced last year, previous to that long siege with the typhoid.  It distracts me to think of it.  At this particular juncture I should lose thousands by absence from my business.”

The doctor’s feelings are enlisted,—­his feelings of humanity and his feelings of self-interest, for doctors must live as well as other people; and the thought of the round sum which would find its way to his own purse, if he could but succeed in preventing the loss of thousands to his patient, was by no means unpleasing.

The most careful examination of the symptoms is made, and well-chosen prescriptions given.  He is requested to call as often as possible through the day, which he readily promises to do, although press of business and a pouring rain render it somewhat difficult.

The result, however, will be favourable to his wishes.  His second and third call give him great encouragement, and on the second day after the attack, the merchant returns to his counting-room exulting in the skill of his physician.

But we must resume our ride.  On, on goes the doctor; rain pouring, wind blowing, mud splashing.  Ever and anon he checks his horse’s speed, at his various posts of duty.  High and low, rich and poor anxiously await his coming.  He may not shrink from the ghastly spectacle of human suffering and death.  Humanity, in its most loathsome forms, is presented to him.