iver."

Traverse managed to keep out of debt; he regularly paid his office rent
and his laundress' bill; he daily purchased his mutton chop or pound of
beefsteak and broiled it himself; he made his coffee, swept and dusted
his office, put up his sofa-bed, blacked his boots; and oh! miracle of
independence, he mended his own gloves and sewed on his own shirt
buttons, for you may depend that the widow's son knew how to do all
these things; nor was there a bit of hardship in his having so to wait
upon himself, though if his mother and Clara, in their well-provided
and comfortable home at Willow Heights, had only known how destitute
the young man was of female aid and comfort, how they would have cried!

"No one but himself to mend his poor dear gloves! Oh--oh-boo-hoo-oo!"

Traverse never alluded to his straitened circumstances, but boasted of
the comfort of his quarters and the extent of his practice, and
declared that his income already exceeded his outlay, which was
perfectly true, since he was resolved to live within it, whatever it
might be.

As the fever began to subside Traverse's practice declined, and about
the middle of November his "occupation was gone."

We said that his office was in the most respectable locality in the
city; it was, in fact, on the ground floor of a first-class hotel.

It happened that one night, near the close of winter, Traverse lay
awake on his sofa-bedstead, turning over in his mind how he should
contrive to make both ends meet at the conclusion of the present term
and feeling as near despondency as it was possible for his buoyant and
God-trusting soul to be, when there came a loud ringing at his office
bell.

This reminded him of the stirring days and nights of the preceding
autumn. He started up at once to answer the summons.

"Who's there?"

"Is Doctor Rocke in?"

"Yes, what's wanted?"

"A gentleman, sir, in the house here, sir, taken very bad, wants the
doctor directly, room number 555."

"Very well, I will be with the gentleman immediately," answered
Traverse, plunging his head into a basin of cold water and drying it
hastily.

In five minutes Traverse was in the office of the hotel, inquiring for
a waiter to show him up into 555.

One was ordered to attend him, who led the way up several flights of
stairs and around divers galleries, until he opened a door and ushered
the doctor immediately into the sick room.

There was a little, old, dried-up Frenchman in a blue