V.

THE TWO PATIENTS.

[Illustration]

NAY, little Tommy, do not shrink away, as if I meant to do you harm. If a thorn has been left in your finger for days, and if the poor finger is swelled and sore, and cannot get well till the thorn is out, is it wise to cry, and pull back your hand, and not let your mother look at the place? There, hold it out now, like a brave little man; and while I am doing all that I can to relieve you, I'll tell you a tale of a poor dog that was much more hurt than you are.

A doctor found in the street a poor spaniel that had broken one of its legs. The man had a kindly heart, so he took the dog to his home, set its bone, put splinters round it, and wrapped it up in bandages, in hopes that the leg might be healed. I do not think that the spaniel struggled and howled as you did two minutes ago, though the doctor, kind as he was, must have given a good deal of pain.

There, Tommy, the thorn is out; you can see it on the point of my needle, and like a good brave boy you never uttered a cry when you felt the prick. Now, while I bathe and bandage the finger, I will tell you more of the dog.

The spaniel's leg grew quite strong and well. The doctor sent the dog home, as he knew to whom he belonged. But he had not seen the last of his patient.

Some time afterwards the doctor heard a whining and scraping at his door, and when he opened it, who should be there but his old friend the spaniel, and with him a poor lame dog that could hardly limp along. The spaniel jumped and wagged his tail, rubbed his nose against the doctor, and looked up in his face, asking him, as plainly as dog could ask, to do the same kind office for his friend as he had done for himself.

[Illustration: THE SECOND PATIENT.]

The doctor could not resist the sensible creature's appeal. He bound up the leg of the second dog both with kindness and skill, and the poor creature, much relieved, limped slowly away with the friend who had so wisely brought him to the place where he himself had found a cure.

Now your finger is bandaged up, Tommy. I have played the doctor's part, and hope in a few days to see that all is as well as ever. And if Mary or Lucy, when gathering blackberries in the wood, manage to run a thorn into a poor little finger, do not let her wait till it fester and swell like your own, but play the part of the wise little dog, and bring her here to the doctor at once.