Texas Surgeon: an Autobiography Page: 84
This book is part of the collection entitled: Rescuing Texas History, 2010 and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the University of Texas Health Science Center Libraries .
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bacon grease thrust into my hand. "While you're at it, Doc,"
the spokesman said, "you might as well put on some of that.
We always do."
"It will be my pleasure, madam," I replied. The company
seemed to be immensely pleased. I consoled myself with the
afterthought that the bacon grease, having been heated, must be
Presently I rolled down my sleeves, washed my hands in
water from the rain barrel, and prepared in all dignity to col-
lect my first fee. I had hit on five dollars as a reasonable sum.
After all, it was ten miles there and back. Now the husband
came forward from wherever he had been discreetly lurking.
He was a powerfully built man with a columnar neck and a
ferocious mustache. Indeed, and I still have a faded photograph
to prove it, he bore a striking resemblance to John L. Sullivan.
Cod-eyed, he stared at me. From his heavy paw dangled a
muddy gunnysack. By some legerdemain it was suddenly in
"I'm not fixed so well, right now, Doc," he said. "Hope
that'll hold you for a while. When I make me a crop I'll drop
by and leave you some cash."
I was a little stunned. "Quite all right," I murmured. Out of
sight, I stopped and peeked. The sack contained a bushel and a
half of sweet potatoes. I had them for breakfast at Mrs. Koon's
for some time thereafter. In all fairness I must record that this
good man did show up when he had made his crop.
For some weeks my medical experiences continued to be al-
most entirely obstetrical. Indeed, throughout my whole stay
Bonanza was incessantly parturient. In one instance I had just
gone to bed. It must have been mid-March or so, for I remember
having dozed off to the sound of a chuck-will's-widow sweetly,
persistently calling from down by the creek. But even though
my head was buried in the pillow, some faint sound would not
let me settle down into deep sleep. I raised my head.
The noise was clearly getting louder. It was the drumming of
Here’s what’s next.
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Atkinson, Donald Taylor. Texas Surgeon: an Autobiography, book, 1958; New York. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth143566/m1/96/: accessed June 27, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; crediting University of Texas Health Science Center Libraries.