Granny: Country Doctor

Granny: Country Doctor by Maxine Lane Granny Basket set out for the weed Eatch behind the goat shed. If the fence ad held, she could find dandelion and poke there. She knew good and well that a mess of greens wouldn't thin Elfin Winter's blood, but if Elfin's ma had her heart set on thinning, it wouldn't hurt to get some goodness from the soil into the stringy boy—and greens with a good piece of smoked jowl would be easier taking than the sulphur and molasses his ma would likely use for dose. The fence had held. She was finding chickweed to sweeten the bitter of the dandelion and poke when she saw the town doctor's little car churning up the dust in the side road. "Oh, drat, she said, when the young man had stopped and walked over to the fence, but she was pleased, though no one but the doctor would know it from the severe look of her chin and nose nearly meeting when she set her almost-toothless gums together. "What have you come pestering about this time?" she asked him. "Just paying my respects to the country doctor," the young man said, his hair fiery red in the noon sun. "What are you going to do with those weeds?" "I'm fixin' to thin Elfin Winter's 42 blood," Granny Basket retorted, taking joy in the pained look on his face. You're a backyard pharmacist now too, Granny?" Dr. Chatham teased. "Thought I'd let you know I'm on my way to take another patient away from you—the Harter girl.' "And welcome to her," Granny snapped. "Got more folks than I can tend to proper now. I can tell you what's troubling Ardie without you going all the way over there." The young man made an exaggerated bow. "And what is your diagnosis, Granny?" "She needs to get married and have a husband and a house and babies to tend—'stead of all that schoolteaching. That's what's ailing Ardie." A wide grin spread over the doctor's face. "Dabbling in psychology now?" As he said this his face suddenly grew serious. "What's clouding you up?" Granny asked. "That old fool in Hurley?" "That's the one," Dr. Chatham said. "He gave a talk at our meeting the other night. Says you've got to stop practicing medicine without a license." "He's been after my hide for years," Granny cackled. "What'd he got hisself riled up about this time?" "That appendectomy you sent to his hospital last week." Granny snorted. "What'd he want me to do? Try to take it out myself." "The patient had a rough time of it, Granny. Dr. Beems says you've got no 43 business giving advice on a case like that—" Granny muttered to herself a long while before the words came out. "Didn't give no advice 'cept to tell Herb's fool wife not to go purging, with the belly hard and the pain spotted." The young doctor signed. "Fd as soon have you looking after me, Granny, as a lot of—" Granny laughed and Dr. Chatham threw up his hands, "Don't snap your eyes at me, I'm all for giving you a medal for all you've done." "And I'll keep right on," Granny said, throwing away a juicy shoot of shepherd's purse without seeing it, "till they have enough young squirts like you to go 'round—better me, the way I see it, than nobody but a useless husband, boiling tubs of water with no thought of what to do after. Now get on with you so's I can get my gathering done—'fore Elfin dies of his blood needing to be thinned." Granny flapped her bonnet at a goat nosing at the fence with a notion to come over to taste the greens. "Get on with you," she repeated, talking now to both the goat and the young doctor. The billy wandered off and the young doctor waved good-by as he started toward his car. "You'll find Ardie's face broke out...