Ernest Pérochon

“ Michael had turned very red, but his pride was beaten and he offered his suggestion timidly:
"We might, at the same time, have the doctor called here again. I'd like him to look her over once more."
"What for? To hurt her again? Seeing a child in pain doesn't upset him one bit, your fine doctor!"
"Well, we might call in another doctor,—say the old one, of Saint-Ambroise."
"Oh, do as you like," said Madeleine and turned on her heel.
The new doctor came in the afternoon—no rush and fuss about him! He was a timid, sensible little old man without any great reputation. ”

“ Madeleine took her out by the door so energetically that the rest of her incantations stuck in her throat for lack of breath.
Michael was coming in from the garden. Madeleine's arms went stiff, and looking him straight in the eye she shouted:
"So it seems that everyone is turning against the child! First the young one, then this old thing! First the doctor, then the witch! ”

“ He was of no use in cases of wounds because the sight of blood made him ill. They said that his learning was scanty and that his long practice had not taught him much. But there was this to his credit: if he rarely cured his patients, he hardly ever killed them.
Standing beside the bed of Lalie, who was still sound asleep, he said softly:
"Poor little darling—she's asleep—don't let's wake her. Never wake the sick!—She was burned, you say? Poor little thing, she must have suffered martyrdom.—I won't disturb her. You're using olive oil on the burns, aren't you?" ”