Ellen Firebaugh - The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife

“I certainly do. Do you think I'd choose a day like this for a pleasure trip?”

“Aren't you glad you got that galloway?” she asked, hurrying to bring the big, hairy garment from its hook in the closet. She helped her husband into it, turned the broad collar up – then, when the soapstone was hot, she wrapped it up and gave it to him. “This ought to keep your feet from freezing,” she said. The doctor took it, hurried out to the buggy, pulled the robes up around him and was gone.

“Eight miles in this blizzard!” thought Mary shivering, “and eight miles back – sixteen miles. It will take most of the day.”

Two hours after the doctor had gone the telephone rang.

“Is Dr. Blank there?”

“No, he is in the country, about eight miles southwest.”

“This is Drayton. We want him at John Small's as soon as possible. How soon do you think he will be back?”

“Not for several hours, I am afraid.”

“Well, will you send him down as soon as he comes? We want him bad .”

Mary assured him she would do so. “Poor John,” she thought as she put up the receiver.

In a few minutes she went hurriedly back. When she had called central, she said, “I am very anxious to get Dr. Blank, central. He is eight miles southwest of here – at the home of Thomas Calhoun. Is there a 'phone there?” Silence for a few seconds then a voice, “No, there is no 'phone at Thomas Calhoun's.”

Disappointed, Mary stood irresolute, thinking. Then she asked,

“Is there a 'phone at Mr. William Huntley's?”

“Yes, William Huntley has a 'phone.”

“Thank you. Please call that house for me.”

In a minute a man's voice said, “Hello.”

“Is this Mr. Huntley?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Huntley, this is Mrs. Blank. You live not far from Thomas Calhoun's, do you not?”

“About half a mile.”

“Dr. Blank is there, or will be very soon, and there is an urgent call for him to go on to Drayton. I want to save him the long drive home first. I find there is no 'phone at Mr. Calhoun's so I have called you hoping you might be able to help me out. Perhaps someone of your family will be going down that way and will stop in.”

“I'll go, myself.”

“It's too bad to ask any one to go out on a day like this – ”

“That's all right, Mrs. Blank. Doc's been pretty clever to me.”

“Tell him, please, to go to John Small's at Drayton. I am very deeply obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Huntley,” she said, hanging the receiver in its place.

“Eight miles back home, six miles from here to Drayton, six miles back – twenty miles in all. Four miles from Calhoun's to Drayton, six miles from Drayton home – ten miles saved on a blizzardy day,” she thought in the thankfulness of her heart.

A few minutes later she was again at the 'phone. “Please give me John Small's at Drayton.” When the voice came she said, “I wanted to tell you that the doctor will be there perhaps in about an hour now. I got your message to him so that he will go directly to your house.”

“I'm mighty glad to know it. Thank you, Mrs. Blank, for finding him and for letting us know.”

A terrible drive saved and some anxious hearts relieved. That dear 'phone! How thankful she was for it and for the country drives she had taken with her husband which had made her familiar with the homes and names of many farmers. Otherwise she could not have located her husband this morning. One day like this covered a multitude of tyrannies from the little instrument on the wall.

It was about half past seven. The doctor had thought it probable that he could get off early this evening and then he and Mary and the boys would have a game of whist. He had been called in consultation to W., a little town in an adjoining county, but he would be home in a little bit – in just ten minutes the train would be due.

“O, there goes that 'phone,” said the small boy wrathfully. “Now, I s'pose papa can't get here!”

His mother was already there with the receiver at her ear.

“This is Dr. Blank's residence.”

“No, but he will be here in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“To Drayton?”

“Very well. I will give him your message as soon as he gets home. I'm afraid that ends the game for tonight, boys,” putting the receiver up.

“Why, does papa have to go away?”

“Yes, he has to drive six miles.”

“Gee-mi-nee – this dark night in the mud!”

Here a thought flashed into Mary's mind – Drayton was on the same railroad on which the doctor was rapidly nearing home – the next station beyond. She flew to the telephone and rang with nervous haste.

“Hello.”

“Is this the Big Four?”

“Yes.”

“This is Mrs. Blank. Dr. Blank is on the train which is due now. He is wanted at Drayton. When he gets off, will you please tell him?”

“To go on to Drayton?”

“Yes, to Alfred Walton's.”

“All right. I'll watch for him and see that he gets aboard again.”

“Thank you very much.”

The train whistled. “Just in time,” said Mary.

“But how'll papa get back?” asked the smaller boy.

“He's got a tie-ticket,” said his brother.

“Yes, papa would rather walk back on the railroad than drive both ways through this deep mud,” said their mother. “I have heard him say so.”

Another ring.

“Is the doctor there?”

“He has just gone on the train to Drayton.”

“How soon will he be back?”

“In an hour and a half, I should think.”

Mary heard the 'phoner say in an aside, “He won't be back for an hour and a half. Do you want to wait that long?”

Another voice replied, “Yes, I'll wait. Tell 'em to tell him to come just as quick as he gets back, though.”

This message was transmitted.

“And where is he to go?”

“To Henry Smith's, down by the Big Four depot.”

A few minutes later Mary had another idea. She went to the 'phone and asked central to give her Drayton, Mr. Walton's house.

In a minute a voice said, “What is it?” It was restful to Mary to have the usual opening varied. Perhaps eight out of ten began with,

“Hello!” The other two began, “Yes,” “Well,” “What is it?” and very rarely, “Good morning,” or “Good evening.”

“Is this the home of Mr. Walton at Drayton?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Blank is there just now, isn't he?”

“Yes, but he's just going away.”

“Will you please ask him to come to the 'phone?”

In a minute her husband's voice was heard asking what was wanted.

“I want to save you a long walk when you get home, John. You're wanted at Henry Smith's down by the Big Four depot.”

“All right. I'll go in to see him when I get there. Much obliged.”

“A mile walk saved there,” mused the doctor's wife, as she joined the two boys, mildly grumbling because they couldn't have their game, and never could have it just when they wanted it. But a few chapters from Ivanhoe read to them by their mother made all serene again.

The Citizens' 'phone was ringing persistently. The doctor's wife had been upstairs and could not get to it in less than no time! But she got there.

“Do you know where Dr. Blank is?” the words hurled themselves against her ear.

“I don't know just at this minute – but he's here in town. I'm sure of that.”

“Why don't he come then!” The sentence came as from a catapult.

“I don't know anything about it. Where was he to go?”

A scornful “ Huh! ” came over the wire – “I guess you forgot to tell 'im.”

“I have not been asked to tell him anything this morning.”

There was heated silence for an instant, then a voice big with wrath: