The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife

Leaning slightly forward and looking the young man in the face he said, “I do not know absolutely, but you know!”

“Know what?”

“Whether or not your child's eyes have had a chance to be infected by certain germs.”

“What do you mean, Doctor?” asked the young father in vague alarm.

Slowly, deliberately, and with keen eyes searching the other's face the doctor made reply:

“I mean that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children.”

There was bewildered silence for an instant then a wave of crimson surged over neck, cheek and brow. It was impossible to meet the doctor's eyes. The young man looked down and made no attempt to speak. By and by he said in a low voice, “It's no use for me to deny to you, Doctor, that I have been a fool and have let my base passions master me. But if I had dreamed of any such result as this they wouldn't have mastered me – I know that.”

“The man that scorns these vile things because of the eternal wrong in them will never have any fearful results rising up to confront him.”

“All that has been put behind me forever, Doctor; I feel the truth and wisdom of what you say. Just get my boy's eyes well and he shall never be ashamed of his father.”

The doctor looked away from the handsome, intelligent face so full at that moment of love and tenderness for this new son which had been given into his care and keeping, and a wave of pity surged over him. But he must go on to the bitter end.

“You have not understood this old Persian's verse,” he said, taking up the little book again. “Tonight his meaning is to be made plain to you.”

Slowly he read:

“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.”

He laid the volume gently down and turning, faced the younger man.

“Listen: In those licentious days the Moving Finger was writing a word for the future to reveal. It wrote BLIND in the eyes of your helpless child.”

“My God! You don't mean it!”

“It is true. The cornea is destroyed.”

A deathly pallor overspread the young man's face. He bowed his head in his hands and great sobs shook his frame. “My God! My God!” he gasped over and over again. Accustomed as the doctor was to suffering and sorrow this man's anguish was too much for him. The tears rolled down his cheeks and he made no effort to restrain them.

After a long time the younger man raised his head and spoke in broken words, “Doctor, I must not keep you here. You are needed elsewhere. Leave me to Remorse. I am young and you are growing old, Doctor, but will you take this word from me? You and all in your profession should long ago have told us these things. The world should not lie in ignorance of this tremendous evil. If men will not be saved from themselves they will save their unborn children, if they only know. God help them.”

The doctor went slowly homeward, his mind filled with the awful calamity in the household he had left. “It is time the world is waking,” he thought. “We must arouse it.”

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

“Is this Mrs. Blank?”

It was a manly voice vibrating with youth and joy.

“I want to tell you that your husband has just left a sweet little daughter at our house.”

“Oh, has he! I'm very glad, Mr. Farwell. Thank you for telephoning. Father, mother and baby all doing well?”

“Fine as silk. I had to tell somebody right away. Now I'm off to send some telegrams to the folks at home. Goodbye.”

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

“This is Mrs. Blank is it not?”

“Yes.”

“Will you please tell the doctor that father is dead. He died twenty minutes ago.”

“The doctor was expecting the message, Mr. Jameson,” said Mary gently. This, too, was the voice of a young man, but quiet, subdued, bringing tidings of death instead of life. And Mary, going back to her seat in the twilight, thought of the words of one – Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. The eternity before the baby came, the eternity after the old man went, were solemnly in her thoughts. But they were not cold and barren peaks to her. They were crowned with light and warmth and love.

And into her thoughts came, too, the never-ending story of the 'phone as it was unfolding itself to her throughout the years. Humor and pathos, folly and wisdom, tragedy and comedy, pain, anguish, love, joy, sorrow – all had spoken and had poured their brief story into the listening ear of the helper. And when he was not there, into the ear of one who must help in her own poor way.

O countless, countless messages stored in her memory to await his coming! Only she could know how faithfully she had guarded and delivered them. Only she could —

Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

notes

1

1. Ophthalmia Neonatorum

2. There has been legislation for the prevention of blindness in the States of New York, Maine, Rhode Island and Illinois.