"There was nobody in the house but Lemon and me, and, almost distracted, I run like mad to the chemist's shop at the corner of the second turning to the right, who's got a son walking the horspitals, and begged him to come with me and see my poor man. He come at once, sir, and there was Lemon still on the floor in his fit. The doctor unclarsped Lemon's hands and put something in 'em, and I slipped a cold key down his back because his nose was bleeding.
"'That's a good sign,' said the doctor, as he forced Lemon's jaws apart and put a spoon between his teeth, which Lemon almost bit in two. Then he threw a jug of cold water into Lemon's face, completely satcherating him, and after that Lemon wasn't so violent; but he didn't recover his senses or open his eyes.
"'Let's git him to bed,' said the doctor.
"He helped me carry Lemon up-stairs, where we undressed him, and it wasn't before we got him between the sheets that he come to.
"'Feel better?' asked the doctor.
"But Lemon never spoke.
"'Don't leave him,' said the doctor to me, and he went back to his shop and brought a sleeping draught, which Lemon took, and soon afterwards fell asleep.
"'He won't wake,' said the doctor, 'for twelve hours at least. Is he subject to fits?'
"'No, sir,' I answered; 'this is the first he's ever had. Can you tell me what's the matter with him? He ain't been drinking, has he?'
"There's no sign of drink,' said the doctor, 'and no smell of it. Does he drink?'