THE AMERICAN-SC AN DIN AVIAN REVIEW 
425 
<<' 
cc- 
an opportunity of finding innocence, spontaneity, romance and poetry. 
lie heard that there were prospects of acquiring a clientele in a 
small town in Jutland, and he immediately left for that place. But 
although the good-looking young doctor with the wistful smile made a 
pleasant impression, he immediately met with difficulties; there were 
not many apartments to be had, and the few that suited him the land¬ 
lords did not like to rent to him for fear of offending his colleagues who 
were already established there. Just at that time a veterinary died and, 
having some available funds, Falk bought the veterinary’s house from 
his widow and soon moved into these new quarters. 
One day, not long afterwards, a man from the neighboring country 
drove up in front of the house and asked the doctor to follow him to his 
master’s farm. Falk was pleased that the news of his establishment 
had already reached the farmers in the district; his new, hitherto un¬ 
used doctor’s stool was soon placed in the wagon, and the two drove off 
in silence. 
After they got out of the town Falk asked the sullen driver, 
“What is the matter with your patient? What do you think has gone 
wrong?” 
He got a bone in his throat,” replied the man. 
I see! Did you not try to slap him on the back?” 
The man turned slowly toward the doctor, looked puzzled at him 
and said, “Very likely.” 
There the conversation ended, and after a while they arrived at 
the farm, which was situated at the edge, or almost at the edge of the 
heath. The farmer received the doctor, showed him the way to the 
parlor and sent for sandwiches and brandy, but Falk had no appetite; 
as a matter of fact he did not feel quite well. Finally the time came to 
look at the patient, and Falk was somewhat surprised when the farmer 
led him into the yard, through the stables, and stopped at a small iso¬ 
lated house situated in a morass which sent out a most unpleasant odor. 
The farmer opened the low door and took the doctor over to a pig. 
“There he is,” he said. 
Henry Falk had entirely forgotten that he had moved into the 
house of a veterinary. The blood rushed to his cheeks and he cried, 
“What, do you expect me to cure your pig?” 
The farmer answered, “Well, before you came we sent for Jes- 
persen to cure the horse, but next time, if it so pleases our Lord, you 
shall treat the horse also. To-day you will have to be satisfied with the 
Pig \< 
“Go to-with your pig and your horse.” 
“You should not use such ugly language,” said the farmer, and 
colored slightly. 
“That is just what I shall!” shouted the doctor. “And next time 
you have a sick beast, send for a veterinary and not for a practising 
