strous snapping-turtle which those of our friends who
wish to see will find among the specimens marked Chelydra, Serpentine in
the great collection at Cantabridge.

CHAPTER XI. VEXED WITH A DEVIL.

It was necessary at once to summon a physician to advise as to the
treatment of Myrtle, who had received a shock, bodily and mental, not
lightly to be got rid of, and very probably to be followed by serious
and varied disturbances. Her very tranquillity was suspicious, for there
must be something of exhaustion in it, and the reaction must come sooner
or later.

Old Dr. Lemuel Hurlbut, at the age of ninety-two, very deaf, very nearly
blind, very feeble, liable to odd lapses of memory, was yet a wise
counsellor in doubtful and difficult cases, and on rare occasions was
still called upon to exercise his ancient skill. Here was a case in
which a few words from him might soothe the patient and give confidence
to all who were interested in her. Miss Silence Withers went herself to
see him.

"Miss Withers, father, wants to talk with you about her niece, Miss
Hazard," said Dr. Fordyce Hurlbut.

"Miss Withers, Miss Withers?--Oh, Silence Withers,--lives up at The
Poplars. How's the Deacon, Miss Withers?" [Ob. 1810.]

"My grandfather is not living, Dr. Hurlbut," she screamed into his ear.

"Dead, is he? Well, it isn't long since he was with us; and they come
and go,--they come and go. I remember his father, Major Gideon Withers.
He had a great red feather on training-days,--that was what made me
remember him. Who did you say was sick and wanted to see me, Fordyce?"

"Myrtle Hazard, father,--she has had a narrow escape from drowning, and
it has left her in a rather nervous state. They would like to have you
go up to The Poplars and take a look at her. You remember Myrtle Hazard?
She is the great-granddaughter of your old friend the Deacon."

He had to wait a minute before his thoughts would come to order; with
a little time, the proper answer would be evolved by the slow automatic
movement of the rusted mental machinery.

After the silent moment: "Myrtle Hazard, Myrtle Hazard,--yes, yes, to
be sure! The old Withers stock,--good constitutions,--a little apt to be
nervous, one or two of 'em. I've given 'em a good deal of valerian and
assafoetida,--not quite so much since the new blood came in. There is
n't the change in folks people think,--same thing over and over again.
I've seen six fingers on a child that had a six-fin