“And as for you, Sir Astley, you shall have nothing better than that,” catching off his night-cap, and flinging it almost into Sir Astley’s handsome face—he was said to be the handsomest man in England; “there, take it, sir.”
“Sir,” exclaimed the surgeon, with a smile, “I pocket the affront.”
On reaching home, and examining the night-cap, he found it contained one thousand guineas—nearly five thousand dollars.
An Old Shoe.
Quite as odd a fee was that presented to a celebrated New York surgeon about the year 1845. An eccentric old merchant, a descendant of one of the early Dutch families of Manhattan Island, was sick at his summer residence on the Hudson, where his family physician attended him. The doctor gave him no encouragement that he ever would recover. A most celebrated surgeon, since deceased, was called as counsel, who, after careful examination of the case, and considering the merchant’s age, coincided with the opinion of the family physician, and so expressed himself to the patient.
“Well, if that is all the good you can do, you may return to New York,” said the doomed man. But as the astonished surgeon was going out of the house, the invalid sent a servant after him, in haste, saying,—
“Here, throw this old shoe after him, telling him that I wish him better luck on the next patient;” and drawing off his embroidered slipper, he gave it to the servant, who, well used to his master’s whims, as well as confident of his generosity, ran after the doctor, flinging the shoe, and giving the message, as directed. The surgeon felt sure of his fee, well knowing the ability of the eccentric merchant; but he picked up the shoe, and placing it in his coat pocket, said to his brother physician, who accompanied him, “I’ll keep it, and I may get something, to boot.”
A SLIPPER-Y FEE.
It contained, stuffed into the toe, a draft for five hundred dollars.