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A Doctor of the Old School — Complete

Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders


by Ian Maclaren




Dr. MacLure Sandy Stewart "Napped" Stones The Gudewife is Keepin' up a Ding-Dong His House--little more than a cottage Whirling Past in a Cloud of Dust Will He Never Come? The Verra Look o' Him wes Victory Weeping by Her Man's Bedside For Such Risks of Life, Men Get the Victoria Cross in Other Fields Hopps' Laddie Ate Grosarts There werna Mair than Four at Nicht A' doot Yir Gaein' tae Lose Her, Tammas The Bonniest, Snoddest, Kindliest Lass in the Glen The Winter Night was Falling Fast Comin' tae Meet Me in the Gloamin' It's oot o' the Question, Jess, sae Hurry up It's a Fell Chairge for a Short Day's Work The East had Come to Meet the West MacLure Explained that it would be an Eventful Journey They Passed through the Shallow Water without Mishap A Heap of Speechless Misery by the Kitchen Fire Ma ain Dear Man I'm Proud to have Met You Gave Way Utterly Fillin' His Lungs for Five and Thirty Year wi' Strong Drumtochty Air Bell Leant Over the Bed A Large Tub The Lighted Window in Saunder's Cottage A Clenched Fist Resting on the Bed The Doctor was Attempting the Highland Fling Sleepin' on the Top o' Her Bed A' Prayed Last Nicht I've a Cold in My Head To-night Jess Bolted without Delay Comin' in Frae Glen Urtach Drumsheugh was Full of Tact Told Drumsheugh that the Doctor was not Able to Rise With the Old Warm Grip Drumsheugh Looked Wistfully Wud Gie Her a Bite o' Grass Ma Mither's Bible It's a Coorse Nicht, Jess She's Carryin' a Licht in Her Hand The Tochty Ran with Black, Swollen Stream Toiled Across the Glen There was Nae Use Trying tae Dig Oot the Front Door Ane of Them Gied Ower the Head in a Drift, and His Neeburs hed tae pu' Him oot Two Men in Plaids were Descending the Hill Jined Hands and Cam ower Fine Twa Horses, Ane afore the Ither He had Left His Overcoat, and was in Black Death after All was Victor She Began to Neigh They had Set to Work Standing at the Door Finis


It is with great good will that I write this short preface to the edition of "A Doctor of the Old School" (which has been illustrated by Mr. Gordon after an admirable and understanding fashion) because there are two things that I should like to say to my readers, being also my friends.

One, is to answer a question that has been often and fairly asked. Was there ever any doctor so self-forgetful and so utterly Christian as William MacLure? To which I am proud to reply, on my conscience: Not one man, but many in Scotland and in the South country. I will dare prophecy also across the sea.

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