DOCTOR BOB
Dr. B.
I only record the effect of the verdict of thejury—
twelve good symptoms and true.
Mrs. B.
I can never forget seeing young Joe Whitney
when he came from you.
He had the face of alost soul.
And
the next day the papers had the news that he had shot himself.
Dr. B.
Well, what of that?
He saved himself about
four months of the most persistent and horrible torture that
the mind of a devil could imagine...... People wonder why
doctors are nearly always Atheists
I
Mrs B.
Oh, Bob!
Dr. B.
In his place I should have done as he did.
Dr. F.
No, you wouldn’t.
You’d sit in a corner with
your teeth clenched, waiting and watching and recording,
killing each hope as it was born, yet wishing to God that you
dared hope—even though you knew it to be vain.
Dr. B.
There’s where you are wrong.
What’s the use of
lying and cheating?
I never saw any good come of it.
You
tell a man he may get well this year—next year—sometime—
never—like a silly girl blowing a puff-ball.
Pah
!
Mrs. B.
If you only had sympathy, Bob dear, if you only
had imagination
!
If you only could realize what these people
really feel when you condemn them I
Dr. F.
And h0pe is the best medicine; at least it helps
the man to live out the little life that remains to him.
An
artist might finish his creation.
Dr. B.
Oh, artists
!
Another set of liars!
Dr. P.
A doctor will go on with his work better if his
brain is not clouded with his own mortal fear.
Dr. B.
Rot
!
if he’s finished, he'd better finish.
And
besides, despair can often
do more than
hope.
Put the
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