At about two o'clock on a cold winter morning, a doctor drove seven miles in answer to a telephone call. On his coming the man who had called him in said:　　“Doctor, I don't have a sore throat, I don't cough, I have no pain either in the side or in the back, I'm not running a temperature, but still I feel that death is near.”　　The doctor felt the man's pulse, listened to his heart and lungs and examined his throat.　　“Have you made your will?”he asked a

At about two o'clock on a cold winter morning, a doctor drove seven miles in answer to a telephone call. On his coming the man who had called him in said:
　　“Doctor, I don't have a sore throat, I don't cough, I have no pain either in the side or in the back, I'm not running a temperature, but still I feel that death is near.”
　　The doctor felt the man's pulse, listened to his heart and lungs and examined his throat.
　　“Have you made your will?”he asked at last.
　　“Why, no doctor. Oh, doctor, it isn't true, is it? I can't believe it.”
　　“Do you have children? Send for them at once. Your father, too, should be called; also your----”
　　“I say, doctor, do you really think I'm going to die?”
　　The doctor looked at him hard.
　　“No, I don't,”he replied.“There's nothing the matter with you. But I hate to be the only man you've made a fool of on a night like this.”
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