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Updated: June 14, 2025
"The sooner, the better, after an operation is decided upon," answered the doctor. "I will make another examination in about two weeks. The changes that take place in that time will help me to a clearer decision than it is possible to arrive at now." After a lapse of two weeks Doctor Hillhouse, in company with another surgeon, made a second examination.
Hillhouse and he stood trembling from head to foot, then cried out in a voice of unutterable despair: "From heaven down to hell in one wild leap! God help me!" Dr. Hillhouse was deeply moved at this. He had felt stern and angry, ready each moment to accuse and condemn, but the intense emotion displayed by the husband shocked, subdued and changed his tone of feeling.
It was at one of these dinners that he met James A. Hillhouse, who, though he had already written The Judgment and was recognized as a poet, was then engaged in mercantile pursuits in the city; but was very soon to make a home in New Haven and remain there during the rest of his life.
WHEN Doctor Hillhouse arrived at his office, it lacked only a quarter of an hour to twelve, the time fixed for the operation on Mrs. Carlton. He found Doctor Kline and Doctor Angier, who were to assist him, both awaiting his return. "I thought twelve o'clock the hour?" said Doctor Kline as he came in hurriedly. "So it is. But everything has seemed to work adversely this morning. Mr.
Carlton made a movement to go, but came back from the door, and betraying more anxiety of manner than at first, said: "This may seem a light thing in your eyes, doctor, but I cannot help feeling troubled. I am afraid of a tumor." "What is the exact location?" asked Dr. Hillhouse. "On the side of the neck, a little back from the lower edge of the right ear." The doctor did not reply.
But the very effort to do this was a draught on her strength, and in a few hours, under the continued suspense of waiting and hearing nothing from her boy, the overstrained nerves broke down again, and she sunk into a condition of half-conscious suffering that was painful to see. For such conditions medicine can do but little. All that Doctor Hillhouse ventured to prescribe was a quieting draught.
DOCTOR HILLHOUSE was in his office one morning when a gentleman named Carlton, in whose family he had practiced for two or three years, came in. This was a few weeks before the party at Mr. Birtwell's. "Doctor" there was a troubled look on his visitor's face "I wish you would call in to-day and examine a lump on Mrs. Carlton's neck. It's been coming for two or three months.
As he did this, Bradley and Hillhouse drew Wambush backward and down to the ground. "I'll pay you for this, Bale Warlick," he groaned in pain, but he still held to the knife. "Let go that knife," thundered the sheriff. "Let it a-loose, I tell you, or I'll mash your skull!" "Not while I hold 'im, Bale," said the bar-keeper, sullenly. "Law or no law, I won't he'p beat no man 'at's down!"
He was then but a mere boy of thirteen, and with the exception of the poet Hillhouse, two weeks his junior, was the youngest student in the college. Cooper himself informs us that he played all his first year, and implies that he did little study during those which followed.
Hillhouse spoke aside to his assistant a's they sat together watching carefully every symptom of their patient. "I sent for you before ten o'clock last night," said the nurse, who overheard the remark and wished to screen herself from any blame. Dr. Hillhouse did not reply. "I knew there was danger," pursued the nurse. "Oh, doctor, if you had only come when I sent for you!
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