t that long-drawn "do-octhor" came plainly enough for her to
know what was needed, though she could get no response to her agitated
questioning. She called Dr. Browne up at once, and sent him flying. Poor
Mrs. Flaherty, meanwhile, had sunk back, almost spent with her painful
exertion, thinking in her desolation,

"It's no good at all, at all! And now I must die unshriven, wid that
awful sin on me sowl."

But suddenly the blissful clatter of a man's quick footsteps aroused
her, and she saw, as in a vision, the door thrown wide, and the doctor's
commiserating face bending above her. His outbreak, "Well, well, well,
this _is_ a fix!" sent comfort to her failing consciousness as, with a
groan of relief, she slipped into blissful oblivion.

There was no time for talk that day, but when the old creature was
resting in her cast, with her nerves soothed into quietude, the next,
she looked up at her daughter, who had hurried to her bedside, and asked
huskily,

"Norah, tell me thrue; was it the spakin'-mash-ine did it?"

"Did what, mother?"

"You know, don't yez? Did it bring the docthor?"

"Why, yes. When you called up the central, of course they 'phoned the
doctor, and so----"

"Norah, will yez shtop thot gabblin', now? What does I be knowin' of
centhrals, and all thot? Can't you answer plain, yis or no? Did the
spakin'-mash-ine get me the docthor?"

"Yes, mother, it did."

"Thin I'm beholden to it. And I take back all me hard woords and
thochts. Give me another sup o' thot cordial, now, till I go to slape.
And ye may tell the neighbors, fur me, thot I've thried and I know yez
can get what ye nade fur the askin' out o' thim mash-ines. Now be off
wid yez--I'm going to slape."

Of course the word spread, and those who had been wise enough to say
little in disfavor of the innovation plumed themselves upon their
superior information, while the ranters against it were temporarily
silenced. Joyce, who was burning with impatience over their slow
acceptance of her benefits, fairly ached to go among them with vigorous
exhortations, even commands, but the Madame restrained her.

"I wouldn't, Joyce," she said in her ruminant tone. "Let them find out
things for themselves. It is the only true wisdom, and nobody wants even
cake thrust down his throat. Try the Lord's way, child. We are slower in
accepting His good gifts than these people are to believe in yours, yet
He waits patiently, and in time we learn their worth."

One