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- 224 REMINISCENCES OF OLD VICTORIA
eaten on the sly and the balance hidden under the mat-tress. The result was that he was then out in the morgue, having died that day, and in due time, to conclude my little story, his friend, who had no chicken, left the hospital cured."
" Now," said Dr. Davie, "I'll go ; you are in good hands (my wife's) ; be patient and ponder on my little story."
It is pretty well known that Dr. Davie had had only one lung for years past, but that did not prevent him attending to his numerous patients. The many who to-day are indebted to his skill and kindness of heart will feel a great sorrow at his passing. Many of his former patients have told me of his refusal of pay for valuable services rendered them. At the conclusion of a sickness a patient would likely say : " Well, doctor, I am grateful for your pulling me through. I shall have to pay by instalments. Here is something on account."
If the doctor did not know his circumstances he would say : " How much is your salary ?" On his re-plying he (the doctor) would say : " If that is all you get you cannot afford to pay anything," and that was the last the patient would hear of it.
On a certain occasion I heard the experience of three in a small party who had this or something to this effect to relate. With his extensive practice he ought to have been a very wealthy man, but not with such patients as these, of course, but if all the patients he has had in years past had been charged for his valuable services he would have been worth half a million in-stead of dying a comparatively poor man. This last year I have visited him regularly, and many events of early Victoria life have been recalled on these visits.
JOHN CHAPMAN DAVIE, M.D. 225 He repined at first when he knew that his days were numbered, saying, " Fawcett, old. man, don't I wish I
could go back to the days when we were young and took those trips to Cowichan. It is pretty hard to go !" I fully agreed with him then, but when later he got so bad and suffered so much, he prayed to go, and I again agreed with him, poor fellow. This latter time was when to speak made him cough and suffocate. " Old man, I cannot talk to you," and he would lie back in an exhausted state, and I would go, sorry that I was unable to do anything to relieve him, to slightly repay all his kindness to me in the past.
Tuesday last I with my wife paid my last call on him, he having expressed a desire to see me. I little thought it was the last time I should see him alive, for he said he would not go till October, he thought, and I believed him.
Well, maybe I have said enough, but I could say a deal more if necessary. What I have said will be echoed by many, I'm sure.
So, in the words of Montgomery, the poet :
" Friend after friend departs, who has not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts, that finds not here an end,
Were this frail world our only rest, living or dying none were blest."
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