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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"


"A veterinarian," commented Stoddard. "Well, they've gone for the
ambulance, and the surgeon will soon be here now."
"I don't know nothin' about veterinarians and surgeons," growled Pap,
still alternately mopping his bald head and shaking it contemptuously;
"but I know that Millsaps ain't a-goin' to box up any dead bodies and
send 'em to the medical colleges; and I know he made as pretty a job of
doctoring old Spotty has ever I seen. To be shore the cow died, but he
got the medicine down her when it didn't look as if human hands could do
it--that's the kind of doctor he is."
"I aim to give Mr. Passmore a teaspoonful of lamp oil--karosene," said
the cow doctor, coming forward, evidently feeling that it was time he
spoke up himself. "Lamp oil is mighty rousin' to them as late like he's
doin'. I've used copperas for such--but takes longer. Some say a dose of
turpentine is better lamp oil--but I 'low both of 'em won't hurt."
Johnnie pushed past them all into the front room where the women were
running about, talking lot and exclaiming. A kerosene lamp without a
chimney smoked and flared on the table, filling the room with evil
odours. Pros Passmore's white face thrown up against the lounge cushion
was the only quiet, dignified object in sight.
"Mandy," said Johnnie, catching the Meacham woman by the elbow as she
passed her bearing a small kerosene can, "you go up to my room and get
the good lamp I have there.


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