And then, realizing that I had received my _conge_, I prepared to
depart.

"How much do I owe you, doctor?" I asked, putting my hand into the
pocket of my gown, confident of finding whatever I should need.

"Nothing," said he. "The real physician can never be paid. He either
restores your health or he does not. If he restores your health, he
saves your life, and he is entitled to what your life is worth. If he
does not restore your health--he has failed, and is entitled to
nothing. All you have will never pay your doctor for what he does for
you. Therefore, go in peace."

I stood abashed in the presence of this wise man, and, as I went forth
from his office, I realized the truth of what he had said. In our own
world we place a value upon the service of the man who carries us over
the hard and the dark places. Yet who can really repay him for all
that he does for us when by his skill alone we are rescued from peril?

I re-entered my sedan-chair and set the blackies off again, with
something potent in my mind--how much I truly owed to the good man who
has taken at times the health of my children, of my wife, of myself,
in his hands and has seen us safely through to port. I have not yet
been able to estimate it, but if ever he reads these lines, he will
know that I pay him in gratitude that which the world with all its
wealth cannot give.

"Now for the Zoo, boys," I cried. "AEsculapius has fixed me up."

And we scampered on.

VIII

At the Zoo

We had not travelled far from the office of AEsculapius when my little
carriers turned from the broad and beautiful corridor into a narrow
passage, through which they proceeded with some difficulty until we
reached the other side of this strangely constructed home of the gods.
As we emerged into the light of day, the view that presented itself
was indescribably beautiful. I have looked from our own hills at home
upon many a scene of grandeur. From the mountain peaks of New
Hampshire, with the sun streaming down upon me, I have looked upon
the valleys beneath through rifts in clouds that had not ventured so
high, and were drenching the glorious green below with refreshing
rains, and have stood awed in the presence of one of the simplest
moods of nature. But the sight that greeted my eyes as I passed along
that exterior road of Olympus, under the genial auspices of those
wonderful gods, appealed to something in my soul which had never
before been awakened, and whic