II
OXFORD
February, 1917
The "Schools" building, though modern, is one of the stateliest
on the Main Street. Here, in old peaceful times, the university
examinations used to be held. Now it is transformed into a hospital
for the wounded men from the fighting front of freedom.
Sir William Osier, Canadian, and world-renowned physician, is my
guide, an old friend in Baltimore, now Regius Professor of Medicine
in Oxford.
"Come," he says, "I want you to see an example of the Carrel
treatment of wounds."
The patient is sitting up in bed--a fine young fellow about twenty
years old. A shrapnel-shell, somewhere in France, passed over his
head and burst just behind him. His bare back is a mass of scars.
The healing fluid is being pumped in through the shattered elbow
of his right arm, not yet out of danger.
"Does it hurt," I ask.
"Not much," he answers, trying to smile, "at least not too much,
M'sieu'."
The accent of French Canada is unmistakable. I talk to him in his
own dialect.
"What part of Quebec do you come from?"
"From _Trois Rivieres,_ M'sieu', or rather from a country back
of that, the Saint Maurice River.
Pages:
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147