AN IDEAL MEDICAL BOARD.
(A Dream of the Future.)
I was due to go in front of the local Medical Board next morning, and I was seeking distraction in the evening paper. Suddenly my eye was caught by the headlines announcing the transfer of recruiting arrangements from the Military to the Civil authorities. This promised to be interesting.
All at once the room grew misty, and when the atmosphere cleared again I found myself in the open street. Before me was a palatial building with the words "Medical Board" carved on a marble slab over the main entrance.
I entered, and was immediately confronted by a liveried janitor who bowed obsequiously.
"I have come to be medically examined," I explained.
"Yes, Sir," he replied. "Will you be good enough to wait one moment, Sir, while I settle with your taxi-driver, and then I will take you to the waiting-room, Sir."
"I have no taxi," I said. "I just walked."
An expression of concern passed across his face.
"Oh, you shouldn't have done that, Sir. The Authorities don't like it. There is a special fund for such expenses, you know, Sir. Will you please come this way, Sir?"
I followed him along the corridor, and was shown into a luxurious apartment overlooking a pleasant garden. The janitor placed an easy chair in position for me, handed me a copy of Punch, and brought me a glass of wine and some biscuits.
"Now, Sir, if you will give me your papers I will send them up to the Board."
I handed the packet to him, and he left the room.
A few minutes later a message-girl entered.
"Are you Mr. Smith?" she inquired.
I confessed that I was, upon which she handed me a sealed envelope. I opened it, and found a letter and a cheque for five pounds. The letter ran as follows:—
"SIR,—The above-named Medical Board regrets its inability to examine you to-day. As you are no doubt aware, it is contrary to its rule to examine more than three persons in one day, and an unusually difficult case, held over from yesterday, has upset all its arrangements.
"The Board would consider it a favour if you could make it convenient to call again to-morrow morning at the same time.
"The enclosed cheque is intended to compensate you for the unnecessary trouble to which you have been put.
"Your obedient Servants ——"
Punctually at the time appointed I again entered the building, and was met by the same janitor.
"The Board is quite ready for you, Sir," he said. "Will you please ascend to the dressing-room, Sir?"
He committed me to the care of a lift-girl, who conveyed me to the second storey. Here I was handed over to a smart valet, who assisted me to undress in a comfortable little apartment replete with every convenience.
Having donned a warm dressing-gown, I was conducted to the Board Room, where I found a dozen of our greatest Specialists assembled. The President shook hands and greeted me effusively. Then I passed in turn from one Doctor to another, each making, with the utmost delicacy and consideration, a thorough examination of that part of my anatomy on which he was an acknowledged expert.
When this was over I was invited to retire to the dressing-room and resume my garments while the Board held a protracted consultation on my case. On returning to the Board Room I was provided with a seat, and the President addressed me.
"Well, Mr. Smith, we can find nothing constitutionally wrong with you. But tell me, have you ever had any serious illness?"
I shook my head. I had always been abnormally healthy.
"Think carefully," he urged. "We don't want to pass you as fit if we can help it."
He seemed so anxious that I felt ashamed to disappoint him.
"Well," I replied, "the only thing I can call to mind is that, according to my mother, I had a severe teething rash when I was ten months old."
As I uttered these words the faces of all became suddenly grave.
"That is quite enough, Mr. Smith," said the President. "You are given total exemption. You should never have been brought here at all, but I am sure you will realise that in times of national emergency mistakes of this nature are bound to occur. If you will apply to the Cashier on your way out he will give you a draft for twenty pounds, to reimburse you in some small way for the loss of your valuable time. Good-bye!"
He held out his hand, but before I could grasp it a mist again enveloped me, from which I emerged upon the dreadful facts of life.
Employer. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"
Old Operative. "'AVING ME 'AIR CUT."
Employer. "WHAT, IN MY TIME?"
Old Operative. "WELL, IT GREW IN YOUR TIME."