The shipping clerk entered clumsily, in his characteristic,
noisy style. Jocularly he cried out:
"Good evening, everybody!"
Virginia quickly held up a protesting finger, while Fanny exclaimed
angrily:
"Don't you see that mother's asleep?"
Throwing his hat and coat on a sofa, the newcomer sat down gingerly on
a chair. With a glance at the old lady, he demanded:
"What's she sleepin' here for? Why don't she go to bed?"
Virginia, always irritated by his _gaucheries,_ pretended not to
hear and went on with her book, but Fanny answered him. In a whisper
she said:
"She's tired out." Anxiously she, added: "I don't like the way she
looks to-day. I think it's the heart. I'll telephone the doctor
to-morrow--"
Jimmie gave a snort of disapproval.
"Pshaw! What's the good?" he exclaimed contemptuously. "Those doctors
can't do nothing; they're the worst kind of fakers. All they do is to
look wise, scribble on a bit of paper some words no one can read--not
even the druggist--and charge you a two-spot. It's to laugh!"
"Dr. Everett doesn't charge us anything--so you're wrong for once,"
interrupted Virginia, glad of the opportunity to give him a dig.
"I ain't talkin' about any particular doctor," went on the shipping
clerk, unabashed. "I'm agin all doctors. They're a bunch of crooks, I
tell you. It's you women with your imaginary ailments who keep 'em
going. If doctors had to depend on men for a living, they'd have to
take to shovelling snow.
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