speaking of operations-第2章

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Presbyterian　in　Scotland。

〃Y　will　never　do　for　you；〃　said　Doctor　X；　when　I　had　rallied
somewhat　from　the　shock　of　these　disclosures。　　〃I　would　suggest
that　you　go　to　Doctor　Z；　at　such…and…such　an　address。　　You　are
exactly　in　Z's　line。　　I'll　let　him　know　that　you　are　coming　and
when；　and　I'll　send　him　down　my　diagnosis。〃

So　that　same　afternoon；　the　appointment　having　been　made　by
telephone；　I　went；　full　of　quavery　emotions；　to　Doctor　Z's　place。
As　soon　as　I　was　inside　his　outer　hallway；　I　realized　that　I　was
nearing　the　presence　of　one　highly　distinguished　in　his　profession。

A　pussy…footed　male　attendant；　in　a　livery　that　made　him　look　like
a　cross　between　a　headwaiter　and　an　undertaker's　assistant；　escorted
me　through　an　anteroom　into　a　reception…room；　where　a　considerable
number　of　well…dressed　men　and　women　were　sitting　about　in　strained
attitudes；　pretending　to　read　magazines　while　they　waited　their
turns；　but　in　reality　furtively　watching　one　another。

I　sat　down　in　a　convenient　chair；　adhering　fast　to　my　hat　and　my
umbrella。　　They　were　the　only　friends　I　had　there　and　I　was
determined　not　to　lose　them　without　a　struggle。　　On　the　wall　were
many　colored　charts　showing　various　portions　of　the　human　anatomy
and　what　ailed　them。　　Directly　in　front　of　me　was　a　very　thrilling
illustration；　evidently　copied　from　an　oil　painting；　of　a　liver
in　a　bad　state　of　repair。　　I　said　to　myself　that　if　I　had　a　liver
like　that　one　I　should　keep　it　hidden　from　the　public　eyeI　would
never　permit　it　to　sit　for　it's　portrait。　　Still；　there　is　no
accounting　for　tastes。　　I　know　a　man　who　got　his　spleen　back　from
the　doctors　and　now　keeps　it　in　a　bottle　of　alcohol　on　the　what…not
in　the　parlor；　as　one　of　his　most　treasured　possessions；　and
sometimes　shows　it　to　visitors。　　He；　however；　is　of　a　very　saving
disposition。

Presently　a　lady　secretary；　who　sat　behind　a　roll…top　desk　in　a
corner　of　the　room；　lifted　a　forefinger　and　silently　beckoned　me
to　her　side。　　I　moved　over　and　sat　down　by　her；　she　took　down　my
name　and　my　age　and　my　weight　and　my　height；　and　a　number　of　other
interesting　facts　that　will　come　in　very　handy　should　anyone　ever
be　moved　to　write　a　complete　history　of　my　early　life。　　In　common
with　Doctor　X　she　shared　one　attributeshe　manifested　a　deep
curiosity　regarding　my　forefatherswanted　to　know　all　about　them。
I　felt　that　this　was　carrying　the　thing　too　far。　　I　felt　like
saying　to　her：

〃Miss　or　madam；　so　far　as　I　know　there　is　nothing　the　matter　with
my　ancestors　of　the　second　and　third　generations　back；　except　that
they　are　dead。　　I　am　not　here　to　seek　medical　assistance　for　a
grandparent　who　succumbed　to　disappointment　that　time　when　Samuel
J。　Tilden　got　counted　out；　or　for　a　great…grandparent　who　entered
into　Eternal　Rest　very　unexpectedly　and　in　a　manner　entirely
uncalled　for　as　a　result　of　being　an　innocent　bystander　in　one　of
those　feuds　that　were　so　popular　in　my　native　state　immediately
following　the　Mexican　War。　　Leave　my　ancestors　alone。　　There　is
no　need　of　your　shaking　my　family　tree　in　the　belief　that　a　few
overripe　patients　will　fall　out。　　I　aloneI；　me；　myselfam　the
present　candidate！〃

However；　I　refrained　from　making　this　protest　audibly。　　I　judged
she　was　only　going　according　to　the　ritual；　and　as　she　had　a
printed　card；　with　blanks　in　it　ready　to　be　filled　out　with　details
regarding　the　remote　members　of　the　family　connection；　I　humored
her　along。

When　I　could　not　remember　something　she　wished　to　know　concerning
an　ancestor　I　supplied　her　with　thrilling　details　culled　from　the
field　of　fancy。　　When　the　card　was　entirely　filled　up　she　sent　me
back　to　my　old　place　to　wait。　　I　waited　and　waited；　breeding　fresh
ailments　all　the　time。　　I　had　started　out　with　one　symptom；　now　if
I　had　one　I　had　a　million　and　a　half。　　I　could　feel　goose　flesh
sprouting　out　all　over　me。　　If　I　had　been　taller　I　might　have　had
more；　but　not　otherwise。　　Such　is　the　power　of　the　human　imagination
when　the　surroundings　are　favorable　to　its　development。

Time　passed；　to　me　it　appeared　that　nearly　all　the　time　there　was
passed　and　that　we　were　getting　along　toward　the　shank…end　of　the
Christian　era　mighty　fast。　　I　was　afraid　my　turn　would　come　next
and　afraid　it　would　not。　　Perhaps　you　know　this　sensation。　　You
get　it　at　the　dentist's；　and　when　you　are　on　the　list　of　after…dinner
speakers　at　a　large　banquet；　and　when　you　are　waiting　for　the
father　of　the　Only　Girl　in　the　World　to　make　up　his　mind　whether
he　is　willing　to　try　to　endure　you　as　a　son…in…law。

Then　some　more　time　passed。

One　by　one　my　companions；　obeying　a　command；　passed　out　through
the　door　at　the　back；　vanishing　out　of　my　life　forever。　　None　of
them　returned。　　I　was　vaguely　wondering　whether　Doctor　Z　buried
his　dead　on　the　premises　or　had　them　removed　by　a　secret　passageway
in　the　rear；　when　a　young　woman　in　a　nurse's　costume　tapped　me
on　the　shoulder　from　behind。

I　jumped。　　She　hid　a　compassionate　smile　with　her　hand　and　told
me　that　the　doctor　would　see　me　now。

As　I　rose　to　follow　herstill　clinging　with　the　drowning　man's
grip　of　desperation　to　my　hat　and　my　umbrellaI　was　astonished
to　note　by　a　glance　at　the　calendar　on　the　wall　that　this　was
still　the　present　date。　　I　thought　it　would　be　Thursday　of　next
week　at　the　very　least。

Doctor　Z　also　wore　whiskers；　carefully　pointed　up　by　an　expert
hedge　trimmer。　　He　sat　at　his　desk；　surrounded　by　freewill　offerings
from　grateful　patients　and　by　glass　cases　containing　other　things
he　had　taken　away　from　them　when　they　were　not　in　a　condition　to
object。　　I　had　expected；　after　all　the　preliminary　ceremonies　and
delays；　that　we　should　have　a　long　skance　together。　　Not　so；　not
at　all。　　The　modern　expert　in　surgery　charges　as　much　for　remembering
your　name　between　visits　as　the　family　doctor　used　to　expect　for
staying　up　all　night　with　you；　but　he　does　not　waste　any　time　when
you　are　in　his　presence。

I　was　about　to　find　that　out。　　And　a　little　later　on　I　was　to　find
out　a　lot　of　other　things；　in　fact；　that　whole　week　was　of　immense
educational　value　to　me。

I　presume　it　was　because　he　stood　high　in　his　profession；　and　was
almost　constantly　engaged　in　going　into　the　best　society　that　Doctor
Z　did　not　appear　to　be　the　least　bit　excited　over　my　having　picked
him　out　to　look　into　me。　　In　the　most　perfunctory　manner　he　shook
the　hand　that　has　shaken　the　hands　of　Jess　Willard；　George　M。　Cohan
and　Henry　Ford；　and　bade　me　be　seated　in　a　chair　which　was　drawn
up　in　a　strong　light；　where　he　might　gaze　directly　at　me　as　we
conversed　and　so　get　the　full　values　of　the　composition。　　But　if
I　was　a　treat　for　him　to　look　at　he　concealed　his　feelings　very
effectually。

He　certainly　had　his　emotions　under　splendid　control。　　But　then；
of　course；　you　must　remember　that　he　probably　had　traveled　about
extensively　and　was　used　to　sight…seeing。

From　this　point　on　everything　passed　off　in　a　most　businesslike
manner。　　He　reached　into　a　filing　cabinet　and　took　out　an　exhibit；
which　I　recognized　as　the　same　one　his　secretary　had　filled　out
in　the　early　part　of　the　century。　　So　I　was　already　in　the　card…index
class。　　Then　briefly　he　looked　over　the　manifest　that　Doctor　X　had
sent　him。　　It　may　not　have　been　a　manifestit　may　have　been　an
invoice　or　a　bill　of　lading。　　Anyhow　I　was　in　the　assignee's　hands。
I　could　only　hope　it　would　not　eventually　become　necessary　to　call
in　a　receiver。　　Then　he　spoke：

〃Yes；　yes…yes；〃　he　said；　〃yes…yes…yes！　Operation　required。　　Small
matterhum；　hum！　Let's　seethis　is　Tuesday？　Quite　so。　　Do　it
Friday！　　Friday　at〃he　glanced　toward　a　scribbled　pad　of　engagement
dates　at　his　elbow〃Friday　at　seven　A。　M。　　No；　make　it　seven…fifteen。
Have　important　tumor　case　at　seven。　　St。　Germicide's　Hospital。
You　know　the　placeup　on　Umpty…umph　Street。　　Go'　day！　Miss　Whoziz；
call　next　visitor。〃

And　before　I　realized　that　practically　the　whole　affair　had　been
settled　I　was　outside　the　consultation…room　in　a　small　private
hall；　and　the　secretary　was　telling　me　further　details　would　be
conveyed　to　me　by　mail。　　I　went　home　in　a　dazed　state。　　For　the
first　time　I　was　beginning　to　learn　something　about　an　industry　in
which　heretofore　I　had　never　been　interested。　　Especially　was　I
struck　by　the　difference　now　revealed　to　me　in　the　preliminary
stages　of　the　surgeons'　business　as　compared　with　their　fellow
experts　in　the　allied　cutting　tradestailors；　for　instance；　not
to　mention　barbers。　　Every　barber；　you　know；　used　to　be　a　surgeon；
only　he　spelled　it　chirurgeon。　　Since　then　the　two　professions
have　drifted　far　apart。　　Even　a　half…witted　barberthe　kind　who
always　has　the　first　chair　as　you　come　into　the　shopcan　easily
spend　ten　minutes　of　your　time　thinking　of　things　he　thinks　you
should　have　and　mentioning　them　to　you　one　by　one；　whereas　any
good；　live　surgeon　knows　what　you　have　almost　instantly。

As　for　the　tailorconsider　how　wearisome　are　his　methods　when
you　parallel　them　alongside　the　tremendous　advances　in　this　direction
made　by　the　surgeonhow　cumbersome　and　old…fashioned　and　tedious！
Why；　an　experienced　surgeon　has　you　all　apart　in　half　the　time　the
tailor　takes　up　in　deciding　whether　the　vest　shall　fasten　with
five　buttons　or　six。　　Our　own　domestic　tailors　are　bad　enough　in
this　regard　and　the　Old　World　tailors　are　even　worse。

I　remember　a　German　tailor　in　Aix…la…Chapelle　in　the　fall　of　1914
who　undertook　to　build　for　me　a　suit　suitable　for　visiting　the
battle　lines　informally。　　He　was　the　most　literary　tailor　I　ever
met　anywhere。　　He　would　drape　the　material　over　my　person　and
then　take　a　piece　of　chalk　and　write　quite　a　nice　long　piece　on
me。　　Then　he　would　rub　it　out　and　write　it　all　over　again；　but
more　fully。　　He　kept　this　up　at　intervals　of　every　other　day　until
he　had　writer's　cramp。　　After　that　he　used　pins。　　He　would　pin　the
seams　together；　uttering　little　soothing；　clucking　sounds　in　German
whenever　a　pin　went　through　the　goods　and　into　me。　　The　German
cluck　is　not　so　soothing　as　the　cluck　of　the　English…speaking
peoples；　I　find。

At　the　end　of　two　long　and　trying　weeks；　which　wore　both　of　us
down　noticeably；　he　had　the　job　done。　　It　was　not　an　unqualified
success。　　He　regarded　is　as　a　suit　of　clothes；　but　I　knew　better；
it　was　a　set　of　slip　covers；　and　if　only　I　had　been　a　two…seated
runabout　it　would　have　proved　a　perfect　fit；　I　am　sure；　but　I　am
a　single…seated　design　and　it　did　not　answer。　　I　wore　it　to　the
war　because　I　had　nothing　else　to　wear　that　would　stamp　me　as　a
regular　war　correspondent；　except；　of　course；　my　wrist　watch；　but
I　shall　not　wear　it　to　another　war。　　War　is　terrible　enough　already；
and；　besides；　I　have　parted　with　it。　　On　my　way　home　through　Holland
I　gave　that　suit　to　a　couple　of　poor　Belgian　refugees；　and　I　presume
they　are　still　wearing　it。

So　far　as　I　have　been　able　to　observe；　the　surgeons　and　the　tailors
of　these　times　share　but　one　common　instinct：　If　you　go　to　a　new
surgeon　or　to　a　new　tailor　he　is　morally　certain；　after　looking
you　over；　that　the　last　surgeon　you　had　or　the　last　tailor；　did
not　do　your　cutting　properly。　　There；　however；　is　where　the
resemblance　ends。　　The　tailor；　as　I　remarked　in　effect　just　now；
wants　an