He was chest doctor, and doctor for every
other organ as well; he was accoucheur and surgeon; he was oculist and
aurist; he was dentist and chloroformist, besides being chemist and
druggist. It was often told how he was far up Glen Urtach when the
feeders of the threshing-mill caught young Burnbrae, and how he only
stopped to change horses at his house, and galloped all the way to
Burnbrae, and flung himself off his horse, and amputated the arm, and
saved the lad's life.
"You wud hae thocht that every meenut was an hour," said Jamie Soutar,
who had been at the threshing, "an' a' 'll never forget the puir lad
lyin' as white as deith on the floor o' the loft, wi' his head on a
sheaf, and Burnbrae haudin' the bandage ticht an' prayin' a' the while,
and the mither greetin' in the corner.
"'Will he never come?' she cries, an' a' heard the soond o' the horse's
feet on the road a mile awa' in the frosty air.
"'The Lord be praised!' said Burnbrae, and a' slipped doon the ladder
as the doctor came skelpin' intae the close, the foam fleein' frae his
horse's mooth.
"'Whar is he?' wes a' that passed his lips, an' in five meenuts he hed
him on the feedin' board, and wes at his wark--sic wark, neeburs! but he
did it weel.
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