Krakatit by Karel Čapek

Now things were better. Life returned to Prokop day by day. He felt a dullness in his head and he was always a little as if in a dream. There was nothing to do but to show his appreciation of the doctor's services and go on his own way. He announced this decision one day after supper but everybody received it in stubborn silence. Then the old man took Prokop by the arm and led him into the consulting-room. After a certain amount of beating about the bush he said gruffly that Prokop must not leave, that it was better for him to rest, that the battle was not yet won -- in short, that he was to remain. Prokop vaguely defended himself; the fact was that he did not yet feel himself in the saddle and that he was a little demoralized by comfort. All talk of going away was postponed indefinitely.

Every afternoon the doctor shut himself up in his consulting-room. "Come in and see me, eh? " he said to Prokop casually. And Prokop found him surrounded by all sorts of bottles, crucibles, and powders. "There's no apothecary in the town, you know," explained the doctor, "I have to prepare the medicines myself. " And with his fat, trembling fingers he laid some powder on the pan of the small balance. His hand was uncertain, the scales twisted and jumped about; the old gentleman became agitated, wheezed, and small drops of sweat appeared on his nose. "I can't see as well as I used to," he said, excusing his old fingers. Prokop watched for a moment and then, saying nothing, took the scales from him. Two little taps and the powder was weighed to a milligram. And a second and a third powder in the same way. The delicate balance simply danced in Prokop's fingers. "Just look at that," said the doctor with admiration and watched Prokop's crushed, knotty hands with their shapeless knuckles, broken nails, and short stumps in the place of one or two missing fingers. "Your fingers are wonderfully nimble, man! " In the course of a few moments Prokop had spread some ointment, measured off some drops of liquid, and heated a test-tube. The doctor glowed with pleasure, and stuck on the labels. In half-an-hour all the medicines were ready, and, in addition, there was a pile of powders in reserve. In a few days Prokop could read the doctor's prescriptions and make them up. Bon!