American Agriculturist 
FARM-DAIRY-MARKET-GARDEN—HOME 
“Agriculture is the Most Healthful, Most Useful and Most Noble Employment of Man ”—Washington 
Reg. U. S, Pat. Off. Established 1842 
Volume 111 For the Week Ending March 17, 1923 Number 11 
A Doctor of the Old School 
How Are Country Folks Going To Replace Men Like This? 
A S Mr. Van Wagenen, in a recent issue 
of the American Agriculturist, told 
so pleasingly and well of the life 
X JL. of a country minister—“one who 
preaches” —let me tell a very little of the 
life of a country doctor I know—“one who 
practices.” 
The country doctor is fast passing away. 
The young doctors are locating in 
or near the city, so as to be handy 
to the hospitals, the libraries and 
lectures. Years ago all the small 
country towns, and even hamlets, 
had their doctors. Now where are 
they? 
A young doctor, whom we will 
call Dr. Brown, settled over thirty 
years ago in a small village. In 
all these years, and in years to 
come, we hope his sturdy horse 
in winter and now, of course, his 
auto in summer travels over and 
over these same roads. 
What a life his has been! He 
perhaps — ever busy — does not 
think it such a wonderful one, but 
in all these thirty years or more 
only twice has he turned back 
when he started on his trips. 
Once, in 1888, when a fearful 
storm blocked all the roads, and 
the other time, also in the win¬ 
ter, when he tipped over and 
smashed his cutter. Think what 
a record, going from Jerusalem 
to Jericho, and, no matter how 
cold the weather or bad the storm, never 
turning back. 
I said to him one day : “Well, this has been 
a dreadful day, doctor.” 
“Has it?” he remarked absent-mindedly, 
measuring out medicine meanwhile. “I have 
to go out every day, and I’ve got so I 
never notice the 
weather.” 
Once in the winter 
time my husband was 
taken sick with a bad 
chill, was out of his 
head, etc. I sent for the 
doctor to come next 
morning. The roads 
were drifted full, with 
hardly a sign of a road 
to be seen. After an 
all-night vigil, I stood 
by the window looking 
out, my heart very 
heavy, for it did not 
look as though anyone 
could get through. Bells 
sounded up the road, 
and there was Dr. 
Brown, his horse wal¬ 
lowing through the 
drifts, the doctor plung¬ 
ing alongside, one hand 
on the reins, the other 
Readying the cutter. 
From zero my spirits 
rose to fever heat. The 
By Mrs. R. M. ROBERTS 
doctor put his horse in the barn and, brush¬ 
ing the snow from his feet, came in to warm 
his hands by the kitchen fire. 
“Darned good roads you’ve got this way,” 
was his only comment. Dr. Brown is pos¬ 
sessed of an unfailing fund of good nature. 
You wonder after his visit whether he or his 
medicine helped you most. 
When a young mother, trembling with ter¬ 
ror of the unknown, dreading the birth of 
her first-born, telephones Dr. Brown, does 
he say carelessly: “Well, call me again when 
you think you need me.” No, indeed, he 
comes at once, and more than one young 
mother can tell you how Dr. Brown stayed 
by, and helped, and comforted, and encour¬ 
aged her through her hour of trial, and was 
apparently as pleased as she when it was 
safely over. 
Many strange, true stories he could tell 
if he wasn’t such a busy man. 
When John Smith was all torn 
and mussed up in a fearful acci¬ 
dent, after Dr. Brown got there, 
did he try a few remedies and 
then say: “Hurry him to the hos¬ 
pital; I’ve done all I can,” and so 
shift the responsibility? No, he 
thought of John Smith’s family 
and of what he would say to his 
wife, and redoubled his energies 
and thought. For three long 
hours he could not feel one sign 
of a pulse, but he just shut his 
teeth and worked and kept on 
working, with the result that John 
Smith is on earth to-day just as 
good as ever. Was that all he 
did? Oh, no. He came the next 
day and helped fix a truck to put 
John’s cot and John on it, and 
move him to his own home, and 
then, because there wasn’t any¬ 
one to help John’s wife get the 
clothes off him and his night shirt 
on. Dr. Brown went right to work 
and carefully cut away coat,shirt,* 
and trousers and underwear, for 
John’s wife was so fearful of 
what might be found underneath she dared 
not do it alone. 
Then there was the time they took Jay 
Wright’s wife to the hospital in convulsions, 
and Dr. Brown went right along with her. 
After the doctors at the hospital had con¬ 
sulted together, they said: “Well, we can’t 
operate now because of 
so and so, etc.; our pro¬ 
fess i o n a 1 reputation, 
you know, etc.” Dr. 
Brown said promptly: 
“All right, then, I’ll 
operate. I don’t give 
a d-for mine,” and 
operate he did, and as 
a result the mother and 
child are both living 
to-day. 
I remember also the 
time he arrived on the 
scene just as Bessie 
Breen’s baby was born 
and the distracted 
father was wringing 
his hands because there 
wasn’t a woman on the 
place, and what should 
he do — go for her 
mother to dress the 
baby? 
“Mercy, no,” said Dr. 
Brown. “Don’t wake 
the old lady up this time 
{Continued on page 246) 
Drifted roads and the darkest nights hold no terror for the country doctor. He manages 
to get through and make little or no fuss doing it. It is a part of the game 
May His Number Increase in the Land 
L ast summer we were visiting on a farm three miles from the 
* nearest doctor. Little three-year old Bobby found and ate sev¬ 
eral green apples, which made him terribly ill and threw him into con¬ 
vulsions. Bushing to the telephone, we called the country doctor who, 
through the winter and summer storms of more than half a century, 
had been riding the hills and valleys of that countryside. Although 
he is an old man, in an almost increditably short time he had crossed 
the range of hills and was coming down the road. As we saw him 
coming, and as we later watched his skillful fingers relieving the 
baby of the terrible pain, we thought of the many, many times he 
had brought similar relief and joy into hundreds of farm families, 
and we again had some appreciation of the feeling of love and grati¬ 
tude of farm people toward their country doctor. 
The splendid story of Dr. Brown, told so well on this page by a 
country woman, is the story of nearly all of the members of that 
great profession “who practice.” Somehow or other, the grim de¬ 
mands and circumstances of their business, early weed out those of 
the profession who lack skill, courage or manliness, so that even 
though the doctor sees much of the seamy side of human nature and 
of life, he still is, almost without exception, an efficient workman, a 
jolly friend, a philosopher and “a very present help in the time of 
trouble.” We are sorry that the number of country doctors is becom¬ 
ing less. ^ What can we do to make it more attractive for him to stay 
with us? Any practical suggestions in the form of letters will be 
welcomed by American Agriculturist and paid for if we can use 
them.—The Editor. 
