This gentleman lived to the age of ninety. He was really in very good circumstances, but lived in this humble manner to enable him to assist very efficiently some poor relatives. The surgeon, after a while, changed his professional visits to friendly ones, and continued them up to the old man’s death. When, however, the gentleman died, about four hundred guineas were found in his boxes.
Sometimes Dr. Abernethy would meet with a patient who would afford a useful lesson. A lady, wife of a distinguished musician, consulted him, and, finding him uncourteous, said,—
“Sir, I had heard of your rudeness before I came, but I did not expect this.”
When Dr. Abernethy gave her the prescription, she asked,—
“What am I to do with this, sir?”
“Anything you like. Put it into the fire if you choose.”
The lady laid the fee on the table, went to the grate, threw the prescription on to the fire, and hastily left the room.
The doctor followed her to the hall, earnestly pressing her to take back the fee, or permit him to write her another prescription; but the lady would not yield her vantage-ground, and so withdrew.
The foregoing is well authenticated. Mr. Stowe, the informant, knows the lady well.